Discourses on various subjects

NYPL RESEARCH UBRARIES

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urlum-h ('iilU-i'tiiin
'rrsrntriiiu ti^7.s.

DISCOURSES

VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

By JEREMY TAYLOR, D. D.

tHAPLAIN IN ORDINARY TO KING CH.4RLES THE FIR3T, AJiD LATE
LORD mSHOF OF DOWN AND CONNOR.

IN THREE VOLUMES.

VOI^UME I.

BOSTON :

PUBLISHED BY AVELJiS AND LILLY.

SOLD By A. T. GOODRICH, NKW-VORK — AND M. CAREY, PHlLAaSLPlil A.

1816.

RIGHT HONOURABLE AND TRULY NOBLE

RICHARD, LORD VAUGHAN,

EARL OF CARBERY, &c.

MY LORD,

1 HAVE now, by the assistance of God, and the ad-
vantages of your many favours, finished a year of
sermons ; which if, like the first year of our Saviour's
preaching, it may be annus acceptabilis^ an acceptable
year to God, and his afflicted hand-maid, the church
of England^ a rehef to some of her new necessities,
and an institution or assistance to any soul ; I shall
esteem it among those honours and blessings with
which God uses to reward those good intentions,
which himself first puts into our hearts, and then
recompenses upon our heads. My Lord, they were
first presented to God in the ministeries of your
family : for this is a blessing, for which your Lord-
ship is to bless God, that your family is, like Gideon's
fleece, irriguous with a dew from heaven, when much
of the vicinage is dry; for we have cause to remem-

ir THE BPISTLE JJKDICATORY.

ber that Isaac complained of tlic Philistines^ who
filled up his wells with stones, and rubbish, and left
no beverage for the flocks, and therefore they could
give no milk to them that waited upon the flocks,
and the flocks could not be gathered, nor fed, nor
defended. It was a design of ruin, and had in it the
greatest hostility, and so it hath been lately;

undique totis

Usque adeo tiirbatur agris. Eu ! ipse capellas
Protinus aeger ago ; banc etiam vix, Tityre, duco.*

But, my Lord, this is not all : I would fain also
complain that men feel not their greatest evil, and
are not sensible of their danger, nor covetous of
what they want, nor strive for that which is for-
bidden them; but that this complaint would suppose
an unnatural evil to rule in the hearts of men ; for
who would have in him so little of a man, as not
to be greedy of the word of God, and of holy ordi-
nances, even therefore, because they are so hard
to have ? and this evil, although it can have no ex-
cuse, yet it hath a great and a certain cause ; for
the word of God still creates new appetites, as it
satisfies the old ; and enlarges the capacity, as it fills
the first propensities of the spirit. For all spiritual
blessings are seeds of immortality, and of infinite
felicities, they swell up to the comprehensions of
eternity ; and the desires of the soul can never be

* Virg. Kclog. I. 12.
And lo ! sad partner in the general care,
Weary and faint 1 drive my flocks afar. Warton.

THE EPISTLE DEDICATORT.

wearied, but when they are decayed ; as the sto-
mach will be craving every day, unless it be sick
and abused. But every man's experience tells him '
now, that because men have not preaching, they
less desire it ; their long fasting makes them not to
love their meat ; and so we have cause to fear, the
people will fall to an atrophy^ then to a loathing of
holy food; and then God's anger will follow the
method of our sin, and send a famine of the word
and sacraments. This we have the greatest reason
to fear, and this fear can be relieved by nothing but
by notices and experience of the greatness of the
divine mercies and goodness.

Against this danger in future, and evil in present,
as you and all good men interpose their prayers, so
have I added this little instance of my care and ser-
vices ; being willing to minister in all offices and
varieties of employment, that so I may by all means
save some, and confirm others ; or at least that myself
may be accepted of God in my desiring it. And I
think I have some reasons to expect a special mercy
in this, because I find by the constitution of the
divine Providence, and ecclesiastical affairs, that all
the great necessities of the church have been served
by the zeal of preaching in publick, and other holy
ministeries in publick or private, as they could be
had. By this the Apostles planted the church, and
the primitive bishops supported the faith oi tnartyrs,
and the hardiness of confessors, and the austerity of
the retired. By this they confounded hereticks, and

VI THK EPISTLE DED!CATORr.

evil livers, and taught them the ways of the spirit,
and them without pertinacy, or without excuse. It
was preaching that restored the splendour of the
church, when barbarism, and wars, and ignorance,
either sat in, or broke the doctor's chair in pieces :
for then it was that divers orders of religious^ and
especially oi preachers^ were erected ; God inspiring
into whole companies of men a zeal of preaching.
And by the same instrument God restored the beauty
of the church, when it was necessary she should be
reformed ; it was the assiduous and learned preach-
ing of those whom God chose for his ministers in
that work, that wrought the advantages and per-
suaded those truths, which are the enamel and beauty
of our churches. And because by the same means
all things are preserved by which they are produced,
it cannot but be certain, that the present state of the
church requires a greater care and prudence in this
ministery than ever; especially since by preaching
some endeavour to supplant preaching, and by inter-
cepting the fruits of the flocks to dishearten the
shepherds from their attendances.

My Lord, your great nobleness and religious cha-
rity hath taken from me some portions of that glory,
which I designed to myself in imitation of St. Paul
towards the Corintlmm church ; who esteemed it his
honour to preach to them without a revenue ; and
though also hke him I have a trade, by which as I
can be more useful to others, and less burthensome to
you ; yet to you also, under God, I owe the quiet and the

THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY. Vll

opportunities and circumstances of that, as if God had
so interweaved the support of my affairs with your
charity, that he would have no advantages pass upon
me, but by your interest; and that I should ex[ ect
no reward of the issues of my calling, unless your
Lordship have a share in the blessing.

My Lord, I give God thanks that my lot is fallen
so fairly, and that I can serve your Lordship in that
ministery by which I am bound to serve God, and
that ray gratitude and my duty are bound up in the
same bundle; but now, that which \\2iS yours by a right
of propriety, I have made publick, that it may still be
more yours, and you derive to yourself a comfort, if
you shall see the necessity of others served by that
which you heard so diligently, and accepted with so
much piety, and I am persuaded have entertained
with that religion and obedience, which is the duty
of all those who know, that sermons are arguments
against us, unless they make us better, and that no
sermon is received as it ought, unless it makes us
quit a vice, or be in love with virtue ; unless we suf-
fer it in some instance or degree to do the work of
God upon our souls.

My Lord, in these sermons I have meddled with no
man's interest, that only excepted, which is eternal;
but if any man's vice was to be reproved, I have
done it with as much severity as I ought. Some
cases of conscience I have here determined ; but the
special design of the whole, is to describe the greater
lines of duty, by special arguments : and if any

Vlll THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY.

witty censurer shall say, that I tell him nothing but
what he knew before ; 1 shall be contented with it,
and rejoice that he was so well instructed, and wish
also that he had needed not a remanhrancer ; but
if either in the first, or in the second ; in the
institution of some, or the reminding of others, I can
do God any service ; no man ought to be olBended,
that sermons are not like curious inquiries after new
nothings^ but pursuances of old truths. However, I
have already many fair earnests that your lordship
will be pleased with this tender of my service, and
expression of my great and dearest obhgations, which
you daily renew or continue upon,

MY NOBLEST LORD,

Your Lordship's qiost

Affectionate, and most
Obliged Servant,

JEREMY TAYLOR.

A PRAYER BEFORE SERMON.

O Lord God ! fountain of life, giver of all good things,
who givest to men the blessed hope of eternal life by our
Lord Jesus Christ, and hast promised thy holy Spirit to
them that ask him ; be present with us in the dispensation of
thy holy word [*and Sacraments ;] grant that we being
preserved from all evil by thy power, and among the diver-
sities of opinions and judgments in this world from all er-
rours and false doctrines, and led into all truth by the con-
duct of thy holy Spirit, may for ever obey thy heavenly
calling: that we may not be only hearers of the word of
life, but doers also of good works, keeping faith and a good
conscience, living an unblameable life, usefully and charita-
bly, religiously and prudently, in all godliness and honesty
before thee our God, and before all the world, that af the end
of our mortal life, we may enter into the light and life of God,
to sing praises and eternal hymns to the glory of thy name
in eternal ages, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

IN WHOSE NAME LET US PRAY IN THE WORDS WHICH HIMSCLP COM'
MANBED, SAYING,

Our Father, which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come; thy will be done in earth as it is in
heaven ; give us this day our daily bread ; and forgive ua
our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us ;
and lead us not into temptation ; but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever
and ever. Amen.

* This clause is to be omitted if there be no Sacrament that day.
VOL. I. 1

A PRAYER AFTER SERMON.

JLoRD, pity and pardon, direct and bless, sanctify and
save us all. Give repentance to all that live in sin, and
perseverance to all thy sons and servants, for his sake, who
is thy beloved, and the foundation of all our hopes, our bles-
sed Lord and Saviour Jesus, to whom with the Father and
the Holy Spirit, be-all honour and glory, praise and adora-
tion, love and obedience, now and for evermore. Amen.

CONTENTS

TO

THE FIRST VOLUME.

Page.

SERMON I, IT, III.

Doom's-day Book ; or, Christ's Advent to Judgment ....
1, 21, 44.

2 Cor. y. 10.
For we must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ, that
every oue may receive the things done in his body, according to
that he hath done, whether it be good or bad.

SERMON IV, V, VI.

The Return of Prayers; or, the Condition of a prevailing

Prayer 67, 85, 104.

John ix. 31.
Now we know that God heareth not sinners ; but if any man be a
worshipper of God, and doth his will, him he heareth.

SERMON Vll, VIII, IX.

Of Godly Fear, &c 127, 145, 162.

Heb. xii. part of the 28th and 29th verses.
Let us have grace whereby we may serve God with reverence and
godly fear. For our God is a consuming fire.

SERMON X, XI.

The Flesh and the Spirit 180, 195.

Mat. xxvi. 14. latter part.
The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak,

CONTENTS.

Page.

SERMON XII, XIII, XIV.

Of Lukewarmness and Zeal ; or, Spiritual Fervour,

221, 2oy, 261.

Jer. xlviii. 10. first part.
Cursed be he that doth the work of tlie Lord deceitfully.

SERMON XV, XVI.

The house of Feasting ; or, the Epicure's Measurei5

2»0, 300.

1 Cor. XV. 32. last part.
Let us eat and drink, for to naorrow we die.

SERMON XVII, XVIII.

The Marriage-Ring; or, the Mjsteriousness and Duties of
Marriage 324, 344.

Ephes. v. 32, 33.

This is a great mystery ; but I speak concerning Christ and the
Church. Nevertheless, let every one of you in particular so love
his wife even as himself; and the wife see that she reverence
her husband.

SERMON XIX, XX, XXI.

Apples of Sodom ; or, the Fi nits of sin. . . 366, 389, 410.
Rom. vi. 21.

What fruit had ye then in those things whereof ye are now ashamed ?

for the end of those things is death.

SERMON XXII, XXIII, XXIV, XXV.

The good and evil Tongue. Of Slander and Flattery.
The Duties of the Tongue .... 430, 448, 446, 464.
Ephes. iv. 25.
Let no corrupt commtmication proceed out of your mouth, but that
which is good to the use of edifying, that it may miuister grace
unto the hearers.

SERMON i,
ADVENT SUNDAY.

DOOMS-DAY BOOKl

OR,

CHRIST'S ADVENT TO JUDGMENT.

2 Cor. v. 10.

For we must all appear bfifore the Judgment-seat of Christ, that
every one may receive tlie things done in las body, according to
that he hath done, whether it be good or bad.

V iRTUE and vice are so essentially distinguished, and
the distinction is so necessary to be observed in
order to the well being of men in private and in
societies, that to divide them in themselves, and to
separate them by sufficient notices, and to distinguish
them by re\vards, hath been designed by all Taws,
by the sayings of wise men, by the order of things,
by their proportions to good or evil ; and the ex-
pectations of men have been framed accordingly :
that virtue may have a proper seat in the will and
in the atfections, and may become amiable by its own
excellency and its appendant blessing ; and that
vice may be as natural an enemy to a man, as a wolf
to the iamb, and as darkness to light ; destructive
of its being, and a contradiction of its nature. But
it is not enough that all the world hath armed itself
against vice, and, by all that is wise and sober
among men, hath taken the part of virtue, adorning

VOL. I, 2

2 Christ's advent to judgment. Scrm. I.

it with glorious appellatives, encouraging it by re-
wards, entertaining it by sweetness, and command-
ing it by edicts, fortifying it with defensatives, and
twining with it in all artificial compliances ; all this
is short of man's necessity : for this will, in all modest
men, secure their actions in theatres and hiiih-ways,
in markets and churches, before the eye of judges,
and in the society of witnesses : but the actions of
closets and chambers, tiie desi^rns ami thoughts of
men, their discourses in dark places, and the actions
of retirements and of the night, are left inditlerent
to virtue or to vice ; and of these, as man can take no
cognizance, so he can make no coercitive ; and there-
fore above one half of human actions is by the laws
of man left unregarded and unprovided for. And
besides this, there are some men who are bigger
than laws, and some are bigger than judges, and
some judges have lessened themselves by fear and
cowardice, by bribery and flattery, by iniquity and
compliance ; and where they have not, yet they have
notices but of few causes : and there are some sins
so popular and universal, that to punish them is
either impossible or intolerable ; and to question
such, would betray the weakness of the publick rods
and axes, and represent the sinner to be stronger
than the power that is appointed to be his bridle.
And after all this, we find sinners so prosperous that
they escape, so potent that they fear not ; and sin is
made safe when it grows great,

Facere omnia sajve

JVon iiupiine licet, nisi duiu I'acis ■*

and innocence is oppressed, and the poor cries, and
he hath no helper, and he is oppressed, and he wants

* Short is Uic triumph of injustice, soon,

Your cruel deeds on your own head shall fall.

Serm. I. Christ's advent to judgment. 3

a patron. And for these and many other concurrent
causes, if you reckon all the causes that come before
all the judicatories of the world, though the litigious
are too many, and the matters of instance are intri-
cate and numeious, yet the personal and criminal are
so few, that of two thousand sins that cry aloud to
God for vengeance, scarce two are noted by the pub-
lick eye, and chastised by the hand of justice. It
must follow from hence, that it is but reasonable, for
the interest of virtue and the necessities of the world,
that the private should be judged, and virtue should
be tied upon the spirit, and the poor should be re-
lieved, and the oppressed should appeal, and the
noise of widows should be heard, and the saints
should stand upright, and the cause that was ill
judged should be judged over again, and tyrants
should be called to account, and our thoughts should
be examined, and our secret actions viewed on all
sides, and the infinite number of sins which escape
here should not escape finally. And therefore God
hath so ordained it, that there shall be a day of doom,
wherein all that are let alone by men shall be ques-
tioned by God, and every word and every action
shall receive its just recompense of reward. For
we must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ,
that every one may receive the things done in his body,
according to that he hath done, whether it be good or
bad.

rtt iSt* TBu <ra)/uici]os; SO it is in the best copies, not TA<r<*,
the things done in the body, so we commonly read
it ; the things proper or due to the body, so the expres-
sion is more apt and proper; for not only what is
done <f/* o-a^7of by the body, but even the acts of abstrac-
ted understanding and volition, the acts of reflec-
tion and choice, acts of self-love and admiration, and
whatever else can be supposed the proper and
peculiar act of the soul or of the spirit, is to be ac-

4 Christ's advent to judgment. Serm. I.

counted for at the day of judgment': and even these
may be called ^m tw au>f^aio^, because these are the acts
of the man in the state of conjunction with the body.
The words have in them no other difllculty or variety,
but contain a great truth of the biggest interest, and
one of the most material constitutive articles of the
w^hole religion, and the greatest endearment of our
duty in the whole world. Things are so ordered by
the great Lord of all the creatures, that whatsoever
we do or suffer shall be called to account, and this
account shall be exact, and the sentence shall be just,
and the reward shall be great ; all the evils ol the
world shall be amended, and the injustices shall be
repaid, and the divine Providence shall be vindicated,
and virtue and vice shall for ever be remarked by their
separate dwellings and rewards.

This is that which the Apostle in the next verse
calls the terrour of the Lord ; it is his terrour, because
himself shall appear in his dress of majesty and robes
of justice ; and it is his terrour^ because it is of all the
things in the world the most formidable in itself, and
it is most fearful to us : where shall be acted the
interest and final sentence of eternity ; and because
it is so intended, I shall all the way represent it as
the LorcVs terrour^ that we may be afraid of sin, for the
destruction of which this terrour is intended. 1 . There-
fore, we Avill consider the persons that are to be
judged, with the circumstances of our advantages or
ouY sorrow?, \we must all appear.^ 2. The Judge and
his judgment-seat : [before the judgment-seat of Christ.^
3. The sentence that they are to receive ; [the things
due to the body, good or bad,] according as we now
please, but then cannot alter. Every of these are
dressed with circumstances of affliction and affriaht-
ment to those, to whom such terrours shall appertain
as a portion of their inheritance.

1. The persons who are to be judged ; even you,
and I, and all the world : kings and priests, nobles

Serm. I. Christ's advent to juccment. 5

and learned, the crafty and the easy, the wise and
the foolish, the rich and the poor, the prevailing ty-
rant and the oppressed party, shall all appear to
receive their symbol ; and this is so far from abating
any thing of its terrour and our dear concernment,
that it much increases it : for, although concerning
precepts and discourses we are apt to neglect in
<c particular, what is recommended in general, and in
incidencies of mortality and sad events, the singu-
larity of the chance heightens the apprehension of
the evil ; yet it is so by accident, and only in regard
of our imperfection ; it being an effect of self-love, or
some little creeping envy which adheres too often to
the unfortunate and miserable ; or else because the
sorrow is apt to increase, by being apprehended to
be a rare case, and a sino-ular unworthiness in him
Avho is afflicted, otherwise than is common to
the sons of men, companions of his sin, and brethren
of his nature, and partners of his usual accidents ;
yet in final and extreme events, the multitude of suf-
ferers does not lessen but increase the sufferings ;
and when the first day of judgment happened, that, I
mean, of the universal deluge of waters upon the old
world, the calamity swelled like the flood, and every
man saw his friend perish, and the neighbours of his
dwelling, and the relatives of his house, and the
sharers of his joys, and yesterday's bride, and the
new born heir, the priest of the family, and the hon-
our of the kindred, all dying or dead, drenched in
water and the divine vengeance ; and then they had
no place to flee unto, no man cared for their souls ;
they had none to go unto for counsel, no sanctuary
high enough to keep them from the vengeance that
rained down from heaven ; and so it shall be at the
day of judgment, when that world and this, and all
that shall be born hereafter, shall pass through the
same Red Sea, and be all baptized with the same

6 chkist's advent to judgment. Serm. V.

fire, and be involved in the same cloud, in which
shall be thunderings and terrours infinite; every
man's fear shall be increased by his neighbour's
shrieks, and the amazement that all the world shall
be in, shall unite as the sparks of a raging furnace
into a globe of fire, and roll upon its own principle,
and increase by direct appearances, and intolerable
rellections. He that stands in a church-yard in the
time of a great plague, and hears the passing-bell
perpetually telling the sad stories of death, and sees
crowds of infected bodies pressing to their graves, and
others sick and tremulous, and death dressed up in
all the images of sorrow round about him, is not sup-
ported in his spirit by the variety of his sorrow : and
at dooms-day, when the terrours are universal, besides
that it is in itself so much greater, because it can
aifright the whole world, it is also made greater by
communication and a sorrowful influence ; grief
being then strongly infectious, when there is no
variety of state but an entire kingdom of fear; and
amazement is the king of all our passions, and all
the world its subjects: and that shriek must needs
be terrible, when millions of men and women at the
same instant shall fearfully cry out, and the noise
shall mingle with the trumpet of the archangel, with
the thunders of the dying and groaning heavens, and
the crack of the dissolving world, when the whole
fabrick of nature shall shake into dissolution and
eternal ashes. But this general consideration may
be hcio-htened with four or five circumstances.

1. Consider what an infinite multitude of angels
and men and women shall then appear ; it is a huge
assemblv, w^ien the men of one kine:dom, the men of
one age m a single province, are gathered together
into heaps and confusion of disorder; but then all
kingdoms of all ages, all the armies that ever mus-
tered, all the world that Augustus Caesar taxed, all

Serm. /. Christ's advent to judgment. 7

those hundreds of mllhons that were slain in all the
Roman wars from JYuma^s time till Italy was broken
into principalities and small exarchats ; all these, and
all that can come into numbers, and that did descend
from the loins of Adam^ shall at once be represented ;
to which account if we add the armies of heaven, the
nine orders of blessed spirits, and the infinite numbers
in every order, we may suppose the numbers fit to
express the majesty of that God, and terrour of that
Judge, who is the Lord and Father of all that unim-
aginable multitude. Krit terror ingens tot simul tan-
torumque populorum*

2. In this great multitude we shall meet all those,
who by their example and their holy precepts have,
like tapers, enkindled with a beam of the sun of
righteousness, enlightened us, and taught us to walk
in the paths of justice. There we shall see all those
good men whom God sent to preach to us, and recall
us from human follies and inhuman practices : and
when we espy the good man, that chid us for our
last drunkenness or adulteries, it shall then also be
remembered, how we mocked at counsel ; and were
civilly modest at the reproof, but laughed when the
man was gone, and accepted it for a religious com-
pliment, and took our leaves, and went and did the
same again. But then things shall put on another
face, and that we smiled at here, and shghted fondly,
shall then be the greatest terrour in the world ; men
shall feel, that they once laughed at their own de-
struction, and rejected health, when it was offered by
a man of God upon no other condition, but that they
would be wise, and not be in love with death. Then
they shall perceive, that if they had obeyed an easy
and a sober counsel, they had been partners of the
same felicity, which they see so illustrious upon the

* Florus. Great shall be the terrour of so hu^e and vast a mul-
titude.

S Christ's advent to judgment, fierm. L

heads of tliosc preachers, ichose work is with (he Lord^
and who by their hfe and doctrine endeavoured to
snatch the soul of their friend or relatives from an in-
tolerable misery. But he tliat sees a crown put
upon their heads that give good counsel, and preach
holy and severe sermons with designs of charity and
piety, will also then perceive, that God did not send
preachers for nothing, on trilling errands and with-
out regard : but that work, which he crowns in them,
he purposed should be elfective to us, persuasive to
the understanding, and active upon our consciences.
Good preachers by their doctrine, and all good men
by their lives, are the accusers of the disobedient ;
and they shall rise up from their seats, and judge
and condemn the follies of those who thought their
piety to be want of courage, and their discourses
pedantical, and their reproofs the priest's trade, but
of no signification, because they preferred moments
before eternity.

3. There in that great assembly shall be seen all
those converts, who upon easier terms, and fewer
miracles, and a less experience, and a younger grace,
and a seldomer preaching, and more unlikely circum-
stances, have suffered the work of God to prosper
upon their spirits, and have been obedient to the hea-
venly calling. There shall stand the men o( jVincvch^
and they shall stand upright in judgment, for they at
the preaching of one man in a less space than forty
days returned unto the Lord their God ; but we have
heard him call all our lives, and like the deaf adder
stopl our ears a<rainst the voice of God's servants,
chann they nerer so wisely. There shall appear the
men of Capernaum, and the Queen of the south, and
the men of Berea, and the iirst fruits of the Christian
church, and the hoiy niaityrs, and shall proclaim to
all the world, that it was not impossible to do the
work of grace in the midst of all our weaknesses, and

Serm. I. Christ's advent to judgment. 9

accidental disadvantages : and that the obedience of
faith^ and the labour of love^ and the contentions of
chastity, and the severities of temperance and self-
denial, are not such insuperable mountains, but that
an honest and sober person may perform them in ac-
ceptable degrees, if he have but a ready ear, and a
Avlillng mind, and an honest heart : and this scene of
honest persons shall make the divine judgment
upon sinners more reasonably and apparently just, in
passing upon them the horrible sentence ; for why
cannot we as well serve God in peace, as others
served him in war? Why cannot we love him as
well, when he treats us sweetly, and gives us health
and plenty, honours our fair fortunes, reputation or
contentedness, quietness and peace, as others did
upon gibbets and under axes, in the hands of tor-
mentors and in hard wildernesses, in nakedness
and poverty, in the midst of all evil things and all
sad discomforts ? Concerning this no answer can be
made.

4. But there is a worse sight than this yet, which
in that great assembly shall distract our sight, and
amaze our spirits. There men shall meet the part-
ners of their sins, and them that drank the round,
when they crowned their heads with folly and for-
getfulness, and their cups with wine and noises.
There shall ye see that poor perishing soul, whom
thou didst tempt to adultery and wantonness, to
drunkenness or perjury, to rebellion or an evil in-
terest, by power or craft, by Avitty discourses or
deep dissembling, by scandal or a snare, by evil ex-
ample or pernicious counsel, by malice or uuAvari-
ness ; and when all this is summed up, and from the
rariety of its particulars is drawn into an uneasy
load and a formidable sum, possibly we may find
sights enough to scare all our confidences, and argu-
ments enough to press our evil souls into the sorrows

VOL. I. 3

10 Christ's advent to judgment. Ser

m.

of a most intolojablc death. For however we make
now hilt li2;lit accounts and evil proportions concern-
ing it, yet it will be a fearful circumstance of ap-
pearing, to see one, or two, or ten, or twenty accur-
sed souls despairing, miserable, infinitely miserable,
roaring and blaspheming, and fearfully cursing thee
as the cause of its eternal sori'ows. Thy lust betray-
ed and rifled her weak unguarded innocence ; thy
example made thy servant confident to lie, or to be
perjured ; thy society brought a third into intemper-
ance and the disguises of a beast; and when thou
seest that soul, with whom thou didst sin, dragged
into hell, well mayest thou fear to drink the dregs of
thy intolerable potion. And most certainly it is the
greatest of evils to destroy a soul for whom the Lord
.Tesus died, and to undo that grace which our Lord
purchased with so much sweat and blood, pains, and
a mighty charity. And because very many sins are
sins of society and confederation ; such are fornica-
tion, drunkenness, bribery, simon} , rebellion, schism,
and many others ; it is a hard and a weighty consid-
eration, what shall become of any one of us, who
have tempted our brother or sister to sin and death :
for though God hath spared our life, and they are
dead, and their debt-books are sealed up till the day
of account ; yet the mischief of our sin is gone before
us, and it is like a murther, but more execrable : the
soul is dead in trespasses and sins, and sealed up to an
eternal sorrow; and thou shalt see at dooms-day
what damnable uncharitableness thou hast done.
That soul that cries to those rocks to cover her. if it
had not been for thy perpetual temptations, might
have followed the Lamb in a white robe ; and that
poor man, that is clothed with shame and flames of
fire, would have shincd in glory, but that thou didst
force him to be partner of the baseness. And who
shall pay for this loss } a soul is lost by thy means ;

Serm. I. Christ's advent to judgment. 11

thou hast defeated the holy purposes of the Lord's
bitter passion by thj impurities; and what shall hap-
pen to thee by whom thy brother dies eternally ? Of
all the considerations that concern this part of the
horrours of dooms-day, nothing can be more formida-
ble than this to such whom it does concern ; and truly
it concerns so many, and amongst so many perhaps
some persons are so tender, that it might affrignt
their hopes, and discompose their industries and
spiritual labours of repentance ; but that our most
merciful Lord hath, in the midst of all the fearful
circumstances of his second coming, interwoven this
one comfort relating to this, which to my sense seems
the most fearful and killing circumstance ; two shall
be grinding at one mill ; the one shall be taken, and
the other left : two shall be in a bed ; the one shall
be taken, and the other left : that is, those who are
confederate in the same fortunes, and interests, and
actions, may yet have a ditferent sentence ; for an
early and an active repentance will wash off this ac-
count, and put it upon the tables of the cross : and
though it ought to make us diligent and careful,
charitable and penitent, hugely penitent even so long
as we live ; yet when we shall appear together, there
is a mercy that shall there separate us, who some-
times had blended each other in a common crime.
Blessed be the mei-cies of God, who hath so carefully
provided a fruitful shower of grace, to refresh the
miseries and dangers of the greatest part of man-
kind. Thomas Jlquinas was used to beg of God,
that he might never be tempted from his low fortune
to prelacies and dignities ecclesiastical; and that his
mind might never be discomposed or polluted with
the love of any creature ; and that he might, by some
instrument or other, understand the state of his de-
ceased brother ; and the story says, that he was
heard in all. In him it was a great curiosity, or the

12 Christ's advent to judgment. Serm. L

passion and impertinenclcs of a useless charity to
search after him, unless he had some other personal
concernment than his relation of kindred. But truly,
it would concern xery many to be solicitous concern-
ing the event of those souls, with whom we have
mingled death and sin ; tor many of those sentences,
which have passed and deoieed concerning our de-
parted relatives, will concern us dearly, and we are
bound in the same bundles, and shall be thrown into
the same fires, unless we repent for our own sins, and
double our sorrows for then' damnation.

5. We may consider that this infinite multitude of
men and women, angels and devils, is not Inelfective
as a number in Pythagoras'' Tables, but must needs
have influence upon every spirit that shall there ap-
pear : for the transactions of that court are not like
orations spoken by a Grecian orator in the circles of
his people, heard by them that crowd nearest him, or
that sound limited by the circles of air, or the enclo-
sure of a wall ; but every thing is represented to
every person ; and then let it be considered, when
thy shame and secret turpitude, thy midnight revels
and secret hypocrisies, thy lustful thoughts and
treacherous designs, thy falsehood to God and startings
from thy holy promises, thy follies and impieties shall
be laid open before all the woild, and that then shall
be spoken by the trumpet of an archangel upon the
house top, the highest battlements of heaven, all
those filthy words and lewd circumstances, which
thou didst act secretly ; thou wilt find, that thou wilt
have reason strangely to be ashamed. All the Avise
men in the world sliall know, how vile thou hast been:
and then consider, with what confusion of face
wouldst thou stand in the presence of a good man
and a severe, if peradventure he should suddenly
draw thy curtain, and find thee in the sins of shame
and lust; it must be infinitely more, when God and

Serm. /. Christ's advent to judgment. 13

all the angels of heaven and earth, all his holy my-
riads, and all his redeemed saints, shall stare and
wonder at thy impurities and follies. I have read a
story, that a young gentleman, being passionately by
his mother dissuaded from entering into the severe
courses of a relierious and single life, broke from her
nnportunity by saymg, T olo servare ammam meam, 1
am resolved by all means to save my soul. But when he
had undertaken a rule with passion, he performed it
carelessly and remissly, and was but lukewarm in his
religion, and quickly proceeded to a melancholy and
wearied spirit, and from thence to a sickness and the
neighbourhood of death ; but falling into an agony
and a phantastick vision, dreamed that he saw him-
self summoned before God's angry throne, and from
thence hurried into a place of torments, where es-
pying his mother, full of scorn she upbraided him
with his former answer, and asked him. Why he did
not save his soul by all means ? according as he under-
took. But when the sick man awaked and recovered,
he made his words good indeed, and prayed frequent-
ly, and fasted severely, and laboured humbly, and
conversed charitably, and mortified himself severely,
and refused such secular solaces which other good
men received to refresh and sustain their infirmities ;
and gave no other account to them that asked him
but this : " If I could not, in my ecstasy or dream,
endure my mother's upbraiding my follies and weak
religion, how shall 1 be able to suffer, that God
should redargue me at dooms-day, and the angels
reproach my lukewarmness, and the devils aggravate
my sins, and all the saints of God deride my follies
and hypocrisies }''"' The effect of that man's consid-
eration may serve to actuate a meditation in every
one of us : for we shall all be at that pass, that un-
less our shame and sorrows be cleansed by a timely
repentance, and oovered by the robe of Christ, we

14 Christ's advent to judgment. Senn. I.

shall suffer the anger of God, the scorn o{ saints and
angels, and our own shame in the general assembly of
all mankind. This argument is most considerable to
them wiio arc tender of their precious name, and sen-
sible of honour ; if they ratlier would choose death
than a disgrace, poverty rather than shame, let them
remember that a sinful life will brins: them to an
intolerable shame at that day, Avhen all that is ex-
cellent in heaven and earth shall be summoned as
witnesses and parties in a fearful scrutiny. The sum
is this ; all that are born of Jldwn shall appear be-
fore God and his Christ, and all the innumerable com-
panies of angels and devils shall be there : and the
wicked shall be alfrighted with every thing they see ;
and there they shall see those good men, that taught
them the ways of life ; and all those evil persons,
whom themselves have tempted into the ways of
death ; and those who were converted upon easier
terms ; and some of these shall shame the wicked,
and some shall curse them, and some shall upbraid
them, and all shall amaze them ; and yet this is but
the a§;t« a^Tivaiv, the beginning of those evils which shall
never end till eternity hath a period; but concerning
this they must first be judged ; and that is the second
general Consideration, We must appear before the judg-
ment-seat of Christy and that is a new state of terrours
and affrlghtments. Christ, who is our Saviour and is
our Advocate, shall then be our Judge ; and that will
strangely change our confidences and all the face of
things.

2. That is then the place and state of our ap-
pearance, ^f/b/-e the judgment-seat of Christ : for Christ
shall rise from the right hand of his Father ; he shall
descend towards us, and ride upon a cloud, and shall
make himself illustrious by a gloiious majesty, and an
innumerable retinue and circumstances of tcrrour and
a mighty power: and this is that which Ortgen af-

iSerm. /. Christ's advent to judgment. 15

firms to be the siffn of the Son of man. Remalcits de
Vaux, in Harpocraie divino^ affirms, that all the Greek
and Latin Fathers conscntientihus animis asseverauf,
hoc signo Crucem Christi signijicari^ do unanimously
affirm, that the representment of the cross is the sign
of the Son of Man spoken of Matth. xxiv. 50. And
indeed they affirm it very generally; but Origen af-
ter this manner is sinscular, hoc sifj-iium Crucis erit.

7 • • • 1

cum Dominus ad judicandum venerit ; So the church
used to sing, and so it is in the Sibyl's verses ;

O Lignum felix ! in quo Dcus ipse pepr^ndit ;
Nee te terra capit, sed coeli tecta videbis.
Cum renovata Dei facies ignita micabit.*

The sign of that cross is the sign of the Son of Man,
when the Lord shall come to judgment : and from
those words of scripture [They shall look on him
whom they have pierced] it hath been freely entertain-
ed, that at the day of judgment Christ shall signify
his person by something that related to his passion,
his cross, or his wounds, or both. I list not to spin
this curious cobweb ; but Origeti's opinion seems to
me more reasonable ; and it is more agreeable to
the majesty and power of Christ, to signify himself
with proportions of his glory rather than of his hu-
mility ; with effects of his being exalted into heaven,
rather than of his poverty and sorrows upon earth :
and this is countenanced better by some Greek

copies I TOTf <pttviia-tlct.t a-ufxiioy tou viou raii avB^ayrou ev tm cu^etvu, SO it IS

commonlv read, the sig-n of the Son of Man in heaven ;
that IS, say they, the sign of the Son of Man imprinted

upon a cloud ; but it is in others rev 6iou tou ctv^e^a^rc-j row iv ov^^v:,!;,

the sign of the Son of man who is in the heavens :

* Blest tree, on which tJie God himself expired !
Thee time shall not destroy ; thou shall behold
The towers of heaven, and reach the illustrious day,
Whea God's owq glorious face again appears.

16 Christ's advknt to judgment. Herm. L

not that the sign shall be Imprinted on a cloud, or in
any part of the heavens ; but that he who is now in
the heavens shall, when he conies down, have a sign
and signification of his own ; that is, proper to him
who is there glorified, and shall return in glory.
And he disparages the beauty of the sun, who in-
quires for a rule to know, when the sun shines, or
the light breaks forth from its chambers of the east ;
and the Son of Man shall need no other signification,
but his infinite retinue, and all the angels of God
worshipping him, and sitting upon a cloud, and lead-
ing the heavenly host, and bringing his elect with
him, and being clothed with the robes of majesty,
and trampling upon devils, and confounding the wick-
ed, and destroying death : but all these great things
shall be invested with such strange circumstances,
and annexes of mightiness and divinity, that all the
world shall confess the glories 'of the Lord; and
this is sufficiently signified by St. Pa?//, We shall all
be set before the throne or place of Chrisfs judicature ;
For it is written^ Jls I live^ saith the Lord, every knee
shall boiv to mc, and every tongue shall confess to God ;*
that is, at the day of judgment, when we are placed
ready to receive our sentence, all knees shall bovir
to the holy Jesus, and confess him to be God the
Lord ; meaning, that our Lord's presence shall be
such, as to force obeisance from angels, and men,
and devils; and his address to judgment shall suffi-
ciently declare his person and his office, and his
proper glories. This is the greatest scene of majesty
that shall be in that day, till the sentence be pro-
nounced ; but there goes much before this, which
prepares all the world to the expectation and conse-
quent reception of this mighty Judge of men and
angels.

The majesty of the Judge, and the terrours of the
judgment, shall be spoken aloud by the immediate

* Rom. xiv. 10.

Serm. I. Christ's advent to judgment. 17

forerunning accidents, which shall be so great vio-
lences to the old constitutions of nature, that it shall
break her very bones, and disorder her till she be
destroyed. Saint J&rom relates out of the Jews'
books, that their Doctors use to account fifteen days
of prodigy immediately before Christ's coming, and to
every day assign a wonder, any one of which, if we
should chance to see in the days of our flesh, it
would a'frig'it us iato the like thoughts, which the
old world had, when they saw the countries round
about them covered vt'itii water and the divine ven-
geance ; or as those poor people near .^t/r/o, and
the JUediterranean Sea^ when their houses and cities
are enterino; into ofraves, and the bowels of the earth
rent with convulsions and horrid tremblings. The
sea, they say, shall rise fifteen cubits above the high-
est mountains, and thence descend into hollowness,
and a prodigious drought; and when they are re-
duced again to their usual proportions, then all the
beasts and creeping things, the monsters and the
usual inhabitants of the sea, shall be gathered to-
gether, and make fearful noises to distract mankind :
the birds shall mourn and chann^e their sono's into
threnes and sad accents: rivers of fire shall rise from
east to west, and the stars shall be rent into threds
of light, and scatter like the beards of comets; then
shall be fearful earthquakes, and the rocks shall rend
in pieces, the trees shall distil blood, and the moun-
tains and fairest structures shall return into their
primitive dust; the wild beasts shall leave their dens,
and come into the companies of men, so that you
shall hardly tell how to call them, herds of men^ or
congregations of beasts ; then shall the graves open
and give up their dead, and those which are alive in
nature and dead in fear, shall be forced from the
rocks whither they went to hide them, and from ca-
verns of the earth, where they would fain have been

VOL. J. 4

18 Christ's advent to judgment. Serm. L

concealed; because their retirements are dismantied,
and tiicir rocks are broken into wider ruptures, and
admit a strange light ijito their secret boweJs; and
the men being forced abroad into the theatre of
mighty liorrours, shall run up and down distracted
and at their wit's end; and then some shall die, and
some sliall be changed ; and hy tliis time tlie elect
shall be gathered together from the four Cjuai ters of
the world, and Christ sliall come alonir with them to
judgment.

These signs, altliough the Jewish Doctors reckon
them by order and a method, concerning which they
had no other revelation (that appears) nor sufficient-
ly credible tradition; yet for the main parts of the
things themselves, the holy scripture lecords Christ's
own words, and concerning the most teirible of
them; the sum of which, as Christ related them, and
his Apostles recorded and explicated, is this, ^ he
earth shall tremble^ and the poiccrs of the heavens shell
be shaken^ the sun shall be turned into darkness^ and the
moon into blood ; tliat is, there shall be strange eclip-
ses of the sun, and fearful aspects in the moon, who
when she is troubled looks red like blood ; Ihe rocks
shall rend^ and the elements shall melt with fervent heat,
7 he heavens shall be rolled vp like a jMnhment, the
earth shall be burned ivith fire^ the hills shall be like uax,
for there shall go afire before Him^ and a mighty tem-
pest ahall be stirred round about Him :

Dies irae, Dies iila
Solvet sec'lnm in favilla ;
Teste David, cum Sibylla*

The trumpet of God shall sound, and the voice of
the Archangel ; that is, of him who is the prince of

* That day, Uiat day, tliat driadl'ul day,
When man to judgment wakes tnim clay,
Wliat hope shall be the simitar's stay ! Scott.

Serm. I. Christ's advent to judgment. 10

ail that i^reat army of spirits, wlilch shall then at-
toiid their Lord, and wait upon and illustrate his glo-
ry; and this also is part of that which is called the
si<j^n of the Son of Mmi ; for the fulfilling of all these
predictions, and the preaching of the gospel to all na-
tions, and the conversion of the Jews., and these pro-
digies, and the address of majesty, make up that sign.
Tue notice of which things some way or other came
to the very heathen themselves, who were alarmed
into caution and sobriety by these dread remembran-
ces :

?ic rum, ooinpnge soliita,

Paeciila tot mundi suprtina coeg< rit hora,
Antiquum repetens itenun chaos, omnia mistis
Sidera sideri bus concurrent : ignea pontum
Astra petent, tellus extendere littora nolet
Excutietque fretura ; fratri contraria Phoebe

Ibit, Totaque discors

Machinadivulsi turbabit foedera mundi.*

Which things when they are come to pass, it will be
no wonder if men's hearts shall fail them for fear,

* So shall onehour at last this Globe control,
Break up the vast machine, dissolve the whole.
And time uo more through measured ages roll.
Then Chaos hoar shall seize his former right,
And reign with Anarchy and endless Night ;
The starry lamps shall combat in the sky.
And, lost and blended in each other, die ;
Quench'd in the deep the heavenly fires shall fall.
And ocean cast abroad o'erspread the Ball ;
' The Moon no more her well known course shall ruH

But rise from western waves and meet the Sun ;
Ungovern'd shall she quit her ancient way,
H r ambitious to supply the day.
Confusion wild shall all around be hurl'd
And discord and disorder tear the world. Rowe.

LucaD, lib. i.

2() Christ's advent to judgment. Serm. L

and their wits be lost with guilt, and their fond hopes
destroyed by prodigy and amazement ; but it will be
an extreme wonder, if the consideration and certain
expectation of these things shall not awake our sleep-
ing spirits, and raise us from the death of sin, and
the baseness of vice and dishonourable actions, to
live soberly and temperately^ chastely and justly^ humbly
Rnd obediently ; that is, like persons that believe all
this ; and such, who are not madmen or fools, will
order their actions according to these notices. For
if they do not believe these things, where is their
faith ? If they do believe them and sin on, and do as
if there were no such thing to come to pass, where
is their prudence, and what are their hopes, and
Avhere their charity ? How do they differ from beasts,
save that they are more foolish ? for beasts go on
and consider not, because they cannot; but we can
consider, and will not ; we know that strange terrours
shall affright us all, and strangle deaths and torments
shall seize upon the wicked, and that we cannot es-
cape, and the rocks themselves will not be able to
hide us from the fears of those prodigies which shall
come before the day of judgment; and that the moun-
tains (though when they are broken in pieces we
call upon them to fall upon us) shall not be able to
secure us one minute fiorn the present vengeance;
and yet we proceed with confidence or carelessness,
and consider not that there is no greater folly in the
world, than for a man to neglect his greatest interest,
and to die for triilesand little regards, and to become
miserable for such interests which arc not excusable
in a child. He that h youngest hath not long to live :
he that is thirty, forty, or fifty years old, hath spent
most of his life, and his dream is almost done, and in
a very few months he must be cast into his eternal
portion ; that is, he must be in an unalterable condi-
tion, his final sentence shall pass according as he shall

Serm. 11. Christ's advent to judgment. 21

then be found : and that will be an intolerable con-
dition, when lie shall have reason to cry out in the
bitterness of his soul, "Eternal wo is to me, who re-
fused to consider w^hen I might have been saved and
secured from this intolerable calamity." But I must
descend to consider the particulars and circumstan-
ces of the great consideration, Christ shaU be our
Judge at dooms-day.

SERMON II.

PART II.

1. If we consider the person of the Judge, we first
perceive that he is interested in the injury of the
crimes he is to sentence. Videbunt quern crucijixenmt ;
and they shall look on Him ivhom they have pierced. It
was for thy sins that the Judge did suffer such unspeak-
able pains as were enough to reconcile all the world to
God : the sum and spirit of which pains could not be
better understood than by the consequence of his own
words. My God! my God! why hast thou forsaken
me ? meaning that he felt such horrible, pure, un-
mingled sorrows, that although his human nature was
personally united to the Godhead, yet at that instant
he felt no comfortable emanations by sensible percep-
tion from the Divinity ; but he was so drenched in
sorrow, that tiie Godhead seeme'd to have forsaken
him. Beyond this nothing can be added : but then,
that thou hast for thy own particular made all this in
vain and ineffective, that Christ thy Lord and Judge
should be tormented for nothing, that thou vvouldst
not accept felicity and pardon when he purchased

22 CHHirr's advent to judgment. Serm. II.

them at so dear a price, must needs be an infinite con-
demjiatlon to such persons. How slialt thou look
upon him that fainted and died for love of thee, and
thou didst scorn his miraculous mercies ? How^ shall
we dare to behold tliat hoi j face that brought salva-
tion to us, and we turned away and fell in love with
death, and kissed deformity and sins ? and yet in the
beholding tliat face consists much of the glories of
eternity. All the pains and passions, the sorrows and
the groans, the hiunility and poverty, the labours and
the watchings, the prayers and the sermons, the mi-
Tacles and the prophecies, the whip and the nails, the
death and the burial, the shame and the smart, the
cross and the grave of Jems shall be laid upon thy
score, if thou hast refused the mercies and design of
all their holy ends and purposes. And if we remem-
ber what a calamity that was which broke the Jewish
nation in pieces, when Christ came to judge them for
their murdering: him who was their Kins: and the
Prince of life ; and consider, that this was but a dark
image of the terrours of the day of judgment ; we may
then apprehend, that there is some strange unspeaka-
ble evil that attends them that are guilty of this death
and of so much evil to their Lord. Now it is certain,
if thou wilt not be saved by his death, thou art guilty
of his death ; if thou wilt not suffer him to save thee,
thou art guilty of destroying him; and then let it be
considered, what is to be expected from that judge
before whom you stand as his murtherer and betray-
er. But this is but half of that consideration,

2. Christ may be crucified again^ and upon a new
account put to an open shame. For after that Christ
had done all this by the direct actions of his priestly
o(Tice of sacrificing himself for us, he hath also done
very many things lor us which are also the fruits of
his first love and prosecutions of our redemption.
I will not instance in the strange arts of mercy that

Serm. 11. Christ's advent to judgment. 23

our Lord uses to bring us to live holy lives; but I
consider that things are so ordered, and so great a
value set upon our souls, since they are the images
of God and redeemed by the blood of the holy
Lamb, that the salvation of our souls is reckoned
as a part of Christ's reward, a part of the glorifica-
tion of his humanity. Every sinner that repents
causes joy to Christ, and the joy is so great that it
runs over and wets the fair brows and beauteous
locks of cherubims and seraphims, and all the angels
have a part of that banquet; then it is that our
blessed Lord feels the fruits of his holy death, the
acceptation of his holy sacrifice, the graciousness of
his person, the return of his prayers. For all that
Christ did or suifered, and all that he now does as
a priest in heaven, is to glorify his Father by bring-
ing souls to God : for this it was that he was born
and died, and that he descended from heaven to
earth, from life to death, from the cross to the
grave ; this was the puipose of his resurrection and
ascension, of the end and design of all the miracles
and graces of God manifested to all the world by
him. And now what man is so vile, such a mali-
cious fool, that will refuse to bring joy to his Lord
by doing himself the greatest good in the world ?
They who refuse to do tliis, are said to crucify the
Lord of life again., and put him to an open shame :
that is, they, as much as in them lies, bring Christ
from his glorious joys to the labours of his life, and
the shame of his death ; they advance his enemies,
and refuse to advance the kingdom of their liord ;
they put themselves in that state in which they
were when Christ came to die for them ; and now
that he is in a state that he may rejoice over them,
(for he hath done all his share towards it,) every
wicked man takes his head from the blessing, and
rather chooses that the devil should rejoice in his

24 Christ's advent to judgment. Scrm. It'

dostrictioii, than that his Lord should triumph in
liis felicity. And now upon the supposition of tliese
premises we may imagine, that it will he an infinite
amazement to meet the Lord to be our Judge,
whose person Ave have murdered, whose honour we
have disparaged, whose purposes we have destroyed,
whose joys wc have lessened, whose passion we have
made inelfcctual, and whose love we have trampled
under our profane and impious feet.

3. But there is yet a third part of this consider-
ation. As it will be inquired at the day of judg-
ment concerning the dishonours to the person of
Christ, so also concerning the profession and insti-
tution of Christ, and concerning his poor members ;
for by these also we make sad reflections upon our
Lord. Every man that lives wickedly, disgraces
the religion and institution of Jesus, he discourages
strangers from entering into it, he weakens the
hands of them that are in already, and makes that
tlie adversaries speak reproachfully of the name of
Christ : but although it is certain our Lord and
Judge will deeply resent all tliese things, yet there
is one thing which he takes more tenderly, and that
is, the uncharitableness of men towards his poor;
it shall then be upbraided to them by the Judge,
that himself was hungry, and they refused to give
meat to him that gave them his body and heart-
blood to feed them and quench their thirst; that
they denied a robe to cover his nakedness, and yet
he would have clothed their souls with tlie robe of
his ri\>;hteousness, lest their souls siiould be found
naked in the day of the Lord's visitation ; and all
tiiis unkindness is notliing but that evil men were
uncharitable to their brethren, they would not feed
the hungry, nor give drink to the thirsty, nor clothe
the naked, nor relieve their brothers needs, nor for-
give his folhes, nor cover their shame, nor turn

Serjn. II. Christ's advent to judgment. 25

their eyes from dellghtinj^ In their affronts and evil
accidents ; this is it which our Lord will take so ten-
derly, that his brethren for whom he died, who
sucked the paps of his mother, that fed on his body
and are nourished with his blood, whom he hath
lodj^ed in his heart and entertains in his bosom, the
partners of his spirit and co-heirs of his inheritance,
that these should be denied relief and suffered to
go away ashamed and unpitied ; this our blessed
Lord will take so ill, that all those who are guilty of
this unkindness have no reason to expect the favour
of the court.

4. To this if w^e add the almlghtlness of the
Judofe, his infinite wisdom and knowledsre of all
causes and all persons and all circumstances, that
he is infinitely just, inflexibly angry, and impartial in
his sentence, there can be nothing added either to
the greatness or the requisites of a terrible and an
almighty Judge. For who can resist him who is
almighty ? Who can evade his scrutiny that knows
all things ? Who can hope for pity of him that is
inflexible ? Who can think to be exempted when
the judge is righteous and impartial ? But in all these
annexes of the great Judge, that which I shall now
remark, is that indeed which hath terrour in it, and
that is the severity of our Lord. For then is the
day of vengeance and recompenses, and no mercy
at all shall be showed but to them that are the sons
of mercy ; for the other, their portion is such as can
be expected from these premises.

1. If we remember the instances of God's severity
in this life, in the days of mercy and repentance, in
those days when judgment waits upon mercy and
receives laws by the rules and measures of pardon,
and that for air the rare streams of loving-kindness
issuing out of Paradise and refreshinsf all our fields
with a moisture more fruitful than the floods of AVus^,

VOL. I. 5

'26 CHKIST'S ADVENT TO JLDGMENT. Scrm. ff^

still there aic niingled some storms and violences,
some fearful instances of the divine justice ; we may
more readily expect it will be worse, infinitely woise
at that day when judgment shall ride in triumph, and
mercy shall be the accuser of the wicked. But so
we read, and are commanded to remember, because
they are wiittcn for our example, that God destroyed
at once five cities of the plain and all the country;
and Sodom and her sisters are set forth for an exam'
pic sujferino' the vengeance of eternal Jirc. \ earful it was
when God destroyed at once 23,000 for fornication,
and an exterminating; angel in one night killed
1 1^.5,000 of the Assyrians^ and the first-born of all
the families of Egi/pt, and for the sin of David m
numbering the people threescore and ten thousand
of the people died, and God sent ten tribes into
captivity and eternal oblivion, and indistinction from
a common people, for their idolatry. Did not God
strike Corah and his company with lire from heaven ?
and the earth opened and swallowed up the congre-
gation of Abiram? And is not evil come u{X)n the
world for one sin of Jldcm? Did not the ano:er of
God break the nation of the Jcics all in pieces with
judgments so great that no nation ever suffered the
like, because none ever sinned so? And at once it
was done that God in anger destroyed all the world,
and eight persons only escaped the angry baptism of
water, and yet this world is the time of mercy ; God
hath opened here his magazines, and sent his only
Son as the lifreat fountain of it too : here he dehVhts
in mercy, and in judgment loves to remember it, and
it triumphs over all his works, and God contrives
instruments and accidents, chances and designs, oc-
casions and opportunities for mercy : if therefore
now the anger of God makes such terrible eruptions
upon the wicked people that delight in sin, how
great may we suppose that anger to be, how severe

fSernu II. Christ's advent to judgmrnt. 2i

that judgment, how terrible that vengeance, how
intolerable those inflictions, which God reserves lor
the fall effusion of indignation on the great day of
vengeance?

2. We may also guess at it by this; if God
upon all single instances, and in the midst of our
sins before they are come to the full, and some-
times in the be^xinnin"; of an evil habit, be so fierce
\n Ins anger, what can we imagine it to be, m that ciay
when the wicked are to drink the dregs of that hor-
rid potion, and count over all the particulars of their
whole ireasui'e of wrath ? This is the day of ivrath^
Gad God shall reveal or hrin<r forth his righteous judg-
ments* The expression is taken from Deut. xxxii.
34. Is not this laid up in store with wie, and sealed vp
amono; ray treasures ? w «^£/>4 i)JiH..itriu,-, ^tv^^.TrrjuTa:, I uill re-
store it in the day of vengeance^ for the Lord shall
jnl'^e his people^ and repent himself for his servants.
¥oc so did tne Lybian lion that was brought up un-
der discipline, and taught to endure blows, and eat
the meat of order and regular provision, and to suffer
gentle usages and the familiarities of societies ; but
once he brake out into his own wildness, dedidicit
pacerii sabito feritate reversa^ and killed two Roman
bjys ; but those that forage in the Lybian mountains
tread down and devour ail that they meet or master;
and when they have fasted two days, lay up an ang«r
great as is tiieir appetite, and bring certain death to
ah that can be overcome. God is pleased to compare
himself to a lion ; and thouo-h in this life he hath con-
fined himself with promises and gracious emanations
of an in.inite goodness, and limits himself by condi-
tions and covenants, and suffers himself to be over-
co;n3 by prayers, and himself hath invented ways of
atoaement and expiation; yet when he is provoked

* RoiD. Ji. 5.

28 Christ's advent to judgmknt. Serm. II.

by our unhandsome and unworthy actions, lie makes
sudden breaches, and tears some of us in pieces ; and
of others he breaks their bones or aflrights their
hopes and secular gayeties, and fills their house with
mourning and cypress, and groans and death : but
when this lion of the tribe o[ Judah shall appear upon
his own mountain, the mountain of the Lord^'m his na-
tural dress of majesty, and that justice shall have her
chain and golden fetters taken otf, then justice shall
strike and mercy shall not hold her hands ; she shall
strike sore strokes, and pity shall not break the blow;
and God shall account with us by minutes, and ibr
words, and for thoughts ; and then he shall be severe
to mark tvhat is done amiss ; and that justice may
reign entirely, God shall open the wicked man's trea-
sure, and telithe sums, and weigh grains and scruples:

« <r< ■yao i'TTip a,yu.B-otiv, Iutu iKtuaiv 7rsip± Ta> S^ai ■9'>itraup5/. tv jj^s/ia. ysip [<fymv)
eK<r<K«tr£*C itrspcLyioS'cf.t tcv; Ta'V kakuv Buiraufov;, SaiCI lilllO UpOtt tfie

place of Deuteronomy before quoted : as there are
treasures of good things, and God hath crowns and
sceptres in store for his saints and servants, and coro-
nets for martyrs, and rosaries for virgins, and phials
full of prayers, and bottles full of tears, and a regis-
ter of sighs and penitential groans: so God hatha
treasure of wrath and fury, and scourges and scor-
pions ; and then shall be produced the shame of lust,
and the malice of envy, and the groans of the op-
pressed, and the persecutions of the saints, and the
cares of covetousness, and the troubles of ambition,
and the insolences of traitors, and the violences of re-
bels, and the rage of anger, and the uneasiness of im-
patience, and the restlessness of unlawful desires ;
and by this time the monsters and diseases will be
nimierous and intolerable, when God's heavy hand
shall press the sanies and the intolerableness, the ob-
liquity and the unreasonableness, the amazement and
the disorder, the smart and the sorrow, the guilt and

Serm. II. Christ's advent to judgment. 29

the punishment, out from all our sins, and pour them
into one chahce, and mingle them with an infinite
wrath, and make the wicked drink of all the ven-
geance, and force it down their unwilling throats
with the violence of devils and accursed spirits.

3. We may guess at the severity of the Judge by
the lesser strokes of that judgment, which he is pleas-
ed to send upon sinners in this world, to make them
afraid of the horrible pains of dooms-day : I mean the
torments of an unquiet conscience, the amazement and
confusions of some sins and some persons. For 1 have
sometimes seen persons surprised in a base action,
and taken in the circumstances of a crafty theft, and
secret injustices, before their excuse was ready; they
have changed their colour, their speech hath falter-
ed, their tongue stammered, their eyes did wander
and fix no where, till shame made them sink into
their hollow eye -pits, to retreat from the images and
circumstances of discovery ; their Avits are lost, their
reason useless, the whole order of the soul is dis-
composed, and they neither see, nor feel, nor think,
as they use to do, but they are broken into disorder
by a stroke of damnation and a lesser stripe of hell ;
but then if you come to observe a guilty and a base
murtherer, a condemned traitor, and see him har-
rassed first by an evil conscience, and then pulled in
pieces by the hangman's hooks, or broken upon sor-
rows and the wheel, we may then guess (as well as
we can in this life) what the pains of that day shall
be to accursed souls: but those Ave shall consider af-
terwards in their proper scene ; now only Ave are to
estimate the severity of our Judge by the intolera-
bleness of an evil conscience ; if guilt Avill make a
man despair, and despair Avill make a man mad, con-
founded and dissolved in all the regions of his senses
and more noble faculties, that he shall neither feel,
nor hear, nor see any thing but spectres and illu-
sions, devils and frightful dreams, and hear noises,

30 Christ's advent to judgment. Serm. 11.

and shriek fearfully ; and look pale and distracted,
like a hopeless man from the horrours and confusions
of a lost battle npon which all his hopes did stand,
then tlie wicked iinist at the day of judguient expect
strange things and fearful ,and such now which no lan-
guage can express, and then no patience can endure.

Then only it can truly be said that he is inflexible
and inexorable. No prayers then can move him, no
groans can cause him to pity thee : therefore pity
thyself in time, that when the judge comes thou may-
est be one of the sons of everlasting mercy to whom
pity belongs as part of thine inheritance ; for all these
shall, without any remorse, (except his own,) be con-
demned by the horrible sentence.

4. Than all may think themselves concerned in
this consideration, let us remember that even the
righteous and most innocent shall pass through a se-
vere trial. Many of the ancients explicated this se-
verity by the fire of conflagration, which, say they,
shall purify those souls at the day of judgment, which
in this life have built upon the foundation hay and
stubble, works of folly and false opinions, and states
of imperfection. So Saint JlusiirCs doctrine was,
Hoc agit Caminus, alios in sinistra separabit^ alios in
dextra quodam mode cliqiiabit ;t the great fire at
dooms-day shall throw some into the portion of the
left hand, and others shall be purified and represent-
ed on the right: and the same is affirmed by Origen'l
and Ladantiiis ; and St. Hilary thus expostulates,
Since we are to give an account for every idle icord, shall

* For groans and lamentations then are vain ;
Fierce is the vengeance of offended Jove.

f In Psalm ciii.

I In Jcrcm. horn. xiii. and in Luc. liom. xiv. and Laotanlius. lib. vii.
instit.c. 21. HilariusinPsaliucxviii, octon iii. and in Mat. can. it.

&crm. II. Christ's advent to judgment. 31

we long for the day of judgmental hi quo est nobis indefes-
sus ilk ignis obemidus in quo subeunda sunt gravia ilia
expiandae apeccatis animae suppUcicu " IVherein uc must
every one of us pass that unwearied fire^ in which those
grievous punishments for expiating the soul from sins
must be endured ; for to such as have been baptized
iviih the Holy Ghost^ it remaincth that they be con-
summated luith the fire of judgment.'''' And St. Am-
brose adds, that if any be as Peter or as John, they
are baptized with this fire, and he that is purged here
had need to be purged there again : illic quoque nos
purificet, quando dicat Dominus. Intrate in requiem
meam ; let him also purify us, that every one of us
being burned ivith that fiaming sword, not burned up
or consumed, ice may enter into Paradise, and give
thanks unto the Lord ivho hath brought us into a place
of refreshment.* This opinion of theirs is in the
main of it very uncertain, relying upon the sense of
some obscure places of scripture, is only apt to
represent the great severity of the Judge at that
day, and it hath in it this only certainty, that even
the most innocent person hath great need of mercy,
and he that hath the greatest cause of confidence,
although he runs to no rocks to hide him, yet he
runs to the protection of the cross, and hides himself
under the shadow of divine mercies : and he that
shall receive the absolution of the blessed sentence,
shall also suffer the terrours of the day, and the fear-
ful circumstances of Christ's coming. The effect of
this consideration is this : that if the righteous scarce-
ly be saved, where shall the wicked and the sinner ap-
pear ? Quid faciet virgula deserti, ubi concutietur cedrus
Paradisif Quid faciet agnus, cum tremit aries? Si
coelum fugiat, ubi manebit terra ? said St. Gregory.
And if St. Paid, whose conscience accused him not,

=^ la Psaira cxviii. scrm. iii-

52 CHRltJ'r's ADVENT TO JUDGMENT. Serm. IL

yet durst not be too confident, because he was not
hereby justified, but might be fi^und faulty by
the severer judgment of his Lord; how shall we
appear with all our crimes and evil habits round
about us ? If there be need of much mercy to the
servants and friends of the Judge, tlicn his enemies
shall not be able to stand upriglit in judgment.

5. But the matter is still of more concernment.
The Pharisees believed that they were innocent if
they abstained from criminal actions, such as were
punishable by the Judge ; and many Christians think
all is well with them if they abstain from such sins
as have a name in the tables of their laws : but be-
cause some sins are secret and not discernible to
man; others are publick but not punished, because
they are frequent and perpetual, and without ex-
ternal mischiefs in some instances, and only provoca-
tions airainst God ; men think that in their concern-
ments they have no place ; and such are jeering and
many instances of wantonness, and revelling, doing
petty spites, and rudeness, and churlishness, lying and
pride : and beyond this, some are very like virtues ;
as too much gentleness and slackness in govern-
ment, or too great severity and rigour of animadver-
sion, bitterness in reproof of sinners, uncivil circum-
stances, imprudent handlings of some criminals, and
zeal; nay there are some ^ilc things, which through
the evil discoursings and worse manners of men,
are passed into an artificial and false reputation, and
men are accounted ivits for talking atheistically^ and
valiant for being murderers^ and icise for deceiving
and circumventing our brothers ; and many irregu-
larities more, for all which wc are safe enough
here. But when the day of judgment comes, these
shall be called to a severe account, for the Judge
is omniscient and knows all things, and his tribunal
takes cognizance of all causes, and hath a coercive

^erm> II. Christ's advent to jtJDGMENT. 33

for all ; all thinfrs are naked and open to his eyes*
(saith St. Paul,) therefore iiotliiiig shall escape for
beino; secret :

■Jl/S) t' ttSnAX f

And all prejiidjces being laid aside, It shall be con-
sidered coiKerning our evil rules, and false prin-
ciples ; Cum cepero tempus, ego justitias jiidicabo ;|
When I shall receive the people, I shall judge ac-
cording unto right: so we read; [When we shall
receive time, I will judge justices and judgments;]
so the vulgar Latin reads it ; that is, in the day of
the Lord., when time is put into his hand and time
shall be no more, he shall judge concerning those
judgments which men here make of things below;
and the lighting men shall perceive the noise of
drunkards and fools, that cried him up for daring
to kill his brother, to have been evil principles;
and then it will be declared by strange effects, that
wealth is not the greatest fortune ; and ambition was
but an ill counsellor; and to lie for a good cause
was no piety ; and to do evil for the glory of God
was but an ill worshipping him ; and that good
nature was not well employed, when it spent itself in
vicious company and evil compliances ; and that
piety was not softness and want of courage ; and
that poverty ought not to have been contemptible;
and the cause that is unsuccessful, is not therefore
evil ; and what is folly here shall be wisdom there ;
then shall men curse their evil guides, and their
accursed superinduced necessities, and the evil guises
of the world ; and then when silence shall be found

* Heb. iv.
t For Time, though slow, shall all at length reveal.
X Fsalm Ixxif,
VOL. I. 6

34 Christ's advent to judgment. Serm. //.

innocence, and eloquence In many Instances con-
demned as criminal ; when the poor shall reign, and
generals and tyrants shall lie low in horrible regions ;
Avhen he that lost all shall find a treasure, and he
that spoiled him shall be found naked and spoiled
by the destroyer ; then we shall find it true, that wft
ought here to have done what our Juda;e, our
blessed Lord, shall do there ; that is, take our
measures of good and evil by the severities of the
word of God, by the sermons of Christ, and the
four Gospels, and by the Epistles of St. PauU by
justice and charity, by the laws of God and the laws
of wise princes and republicks, by the rules of
nature and the just proportions of reason, by the
examples of good men and the proverbs of wise
men, by severity and the rules of discipline ; for then
it shall be, that truth shall ride in triumph, and the
holiness of Christ's sermons shall be manifest to all
the Avorld ; that the word of God shall be advanced
over all the discourse of men, and wisdom shall be
justified by all her children. Then shall be heard
those words of an evil and tardy repentance, and the
just rewards of folly; [We fools thought their life
madness ; but behold they are justified before the
throne of God, and we are miserable for ever.] Here
men think it strange if others will not run into the
same excess of riot; but there, they will wonder
how themselves should be so mad and infinitely un-
safe, by being strangely and inexcusably unreason-
able. The sum is this, the Judge shall appear
clothed with loisdom^ and power., and justice., and
knowledge., and an impartial spirit, making no separa-
tions by the proportions of this world, but by the
measures of God ; not giving sentence by the prin-
ciples of our folly and evil customs, but by the seve-
rity of his own laws and measures of the spirit. A'^on
est judicium Dei., sicut hominum; God does not judge
as man judges.

Serm. IT. Christ's advent to judgment. 35

6. Now that the Judge is come, thus arrayed,
thus prepared, so instructed, let us next consider the
circumstances of our appearing and his sentence ; and
first consider, that men at the day of judgment that
belong not to the portion of life, shall have three
sorts of accusers. 1. Christ himself, who is their
Judge. 2. Their own consciences, whom they have
injured and blotted with characters of death and
fojl dishonour. 3. The Devil, their enemy, whom
they served.

1. Christ shall be their accuser, not only upon
the stock of those direct injuries (which I before
reckoned) of crucifying the Lord of life, once and
again, &c. but upon the titles of contempt and un-
wortiiiness, of unkindness and ingratitude; and the
accusation will be nothing else but a plain repre-
sentation of those artifices and assistances, those
bonds and invitations, those constrainings and impor-
tunities, which our dear Lord used to us, to make it
almost impossible to lie in sin, and necessary to be
saved. For it will, it must needs be a fearful expro-
bration of our un worthiness, when the Judge himself
shall bear witness against us, that the wisdom of
God himself was strangely employed in bringing us
safely to felicity. I shall draw a short scheme,
which although it must needs be infinitely short of
what God hath done for us, yet it will be enough to
shame us. I. God did not only give his Son for an
example, and the Son gave himself for a price for us,
but both gave the Holy Spirit to assist us in mighty
graces, for the verifications of faith, and the enter-
tainments of hope, and the increase and perseverance
of charity. 2. God gave to us a new nature, he
put another principle into us, a third part of a perfec-
tive constitution : we have the spirit put into us to
be a part of us, as properly to produce actions of
holy life, as the soul of man in the body does pro- ''

86 Christ's advent to jcdcment. Serni. II.

duce the natural. 3. God hath exalted human nature,
and made it in the person of Jesus Christ to sit above
the highest seat of angels, and fhe angels are Oiade
muiistering spirits^ ever since their Loid became our
brother. 4. Christ hath bj a miraculous sacrament
given us his body to cat, and his blood to drink ; he
made ways that we may become all one with him.
5. He hath given us an easy religion, and hath
established our future felicity upon natinal and
pleasant conditions, and we are to be happy here-
after if we suffer God to make us happy here ; and
things are so ordered, that a man must take more
pains to perish, than to be happy. G. God hath
found out rare ways to make our prayers atceptable,
our weak petitions, the desires of our impeifect
souls to prevail mightily with God; and to lay a holy
violence, and an undeniable necessity upon him sell ;
and God will deny us nothing, but when we ask of
him to do us ill offices, to give us poisons and dan-
gers, and evil nourishment, and temptations; and he
that hath given such mighty power to the prayers of
his servants, yet will not be moved by those potent
and mighty prayers to do any good man an evil
turn, or to grant him one mischief; in that only, God
can deny us. 7. But in all things else God hath
made all the excellent things in heaven and earth
to join towards holy and fortunate effects ; for he
hath appointed an angel to jj resent the prayers of
saints^* and Christ makes intercession for us, and
the Holy Spirit makes intercession for ns with groans
unuti e ruble ;'\ and all the holy men in the world pi ay
for all and for every one ; and God hath instructed
us with scriptures and precedents, and collateral
and direct assistances to pray ; and he encourages
us with divers excellent promises, and parables, and
^examples, and teaches us what to pray^ and how, and

'♦' Bcv. viii. 3. t Rou), viii. 26,

Serm. 11. chuist's advent to judgment. 37

gives one promise to publick prayer, and another to
private prayer, and to both the blessing of being
heard.

8. Add to this account, that God did heap bless-
ings upon us without order, infinitely, perpetually,
and in all instances, when we needed, and when we
needed not. 9. He heard us when we prayed,
giving us all, and giving us more than we desired.
10. He desired that we should ask, and yet he hath
also prevented our desire. 11. He watched for us,
and at his own charge sent a whole order of men,
whose employment is to minister to our souls ; and if
all this had not been enough, he had given us more
also. 12. He promised heaven to our obedience, a
province for a dish of water, a kingdom for a prayer,
satisfaction for desiring it, grace for receiving, and
more grace for accepting and using the first. 1 3. He
invited us with gracious words and perfect entertain-
ments. 14. He threatened horrible things to us if
we would not be happy. 15. He hath made strange
necessities for us, making our very repentance to be
a conjugation of holy actions, and holy times, and a
long succession. 16. He hath taken aAvay all ex-
cuses from us, he hath called us off from temptation,
he bears our charges, he is always before-hand with
us in every act of favour, and perpetually slov/ in
striking ; and his arrows are unfeathered, and he is
so long, first in draAving his sword, and another
long while in whetting it, and yet longer in lifting
his hand to strike, that before the blow comes, the
man hath repented long, unless he be a fool and
impudent ; and then God is so glad of an excuse to
lay his anger aside, that certainly if after all this
we refuse life and glory, there is no more to be
said ; this plain story will condemn us : but the
story is very much longer. And as our conscience
will represent all our sins to us, so the Judge Aviil

38 Christ's advent to judgment. Serm. II.

represent all his Father's kindnesses, as JS'athan did
to David., when he was to make the justice of the
divine sentence appear against him. 17. Then it
shall be remembered, that the joys of every day's
piety would have been a greater pleasure every night,
than the remembrance of every night's sin coidd have
been in the morning. 18. That every night, the trou-
ble and labour of the day's virtue would have been as
much passed, and turned to as a very nothing, as
the pleasure of that day's sin; but that they would
be infinitely distinguished by the remanent effects.

Av nrt Trp'j-^yii K-JKav /uiTst Troviu, o ^sv woyoc oi^erai, to eTe humv f^evei.
*v T/ irc/JiJ-jic "-t^ov jUSTot ))<r oVtiC) TO fjiiv ><i^u ci^irv-h to Je aiy^^ov fMvu '*

So JMusonius expressed the sense of this inducement;
and that this argument would have grown so great
by that time we come to die, that the certain plea-
Bures, and rare confidences, and holy hopes of a
death-bed, would be a strange felicity to the man
when he remembers he did obey, if they were com-
pared to the fearful expectations of a dying sinner,
who feels, by a formidable and affrlghtmg remem-
brance, that of all his sins nothing remains, but the
gains of a miserable eternity. The offering ourselves
to God every morning, and the thanksgiving to God
every night, hope and fear, shame and desire, the
honour of leaving a fair name behind us, and the
shame of dying like a fool, every thing Indeed in the
world is made to be an argument and inducement to
us, to invite us to come to God and be saved ; and
therefore when this, and infinitely more, shall by the
Judofe be exhibited in sad remembrances, there needs
no other sentence, we shall condemn ourselves with
a hasty shame, and a fearful confusion, to see hovr

* Though it be painful to perform wJiat is ofood, yet the good endureth
when the pain is fory;otten ; and if the commission of wickedness be
attended with pleasure, yet the evil reiuaiaetli when the pleasure hath,
passed away.

Serm. II. Christ's advent to judgment. 39

good God hath been to us, and how base we have
been to ourselves. . Thus Moses is said to accuse the
Jews ; and thus also he that does accuse is said to
condemn, as Verres was by Cicero, and Claudia by
Domitius her accuser, and the world of impenitent
persons by the men of JVineveh, and all by Christ
their judge. I represent the horrour of this circum-
stance to consist in this : besides the reasonableness
of the judgment and the certainty of the condemna-
tion, it cannot but be an argument of an intolerable
despair to perishing souls, when he that was our
Advocate all our hfe, shall, in the day of that appear-
ing, be our accuser and our Judge, a party against us,
an injured person in the day of his power and of his
wrath, doing execution upon all his own foolish and
malicious enemies.

2. Our conscience shall be our accuser.^ But this
3ignifies but these two things ; 1 . That we shall be
condemned for the evils that we have done, and shall
then remember; God by his power wiping away the
dust from the tables of our memory, and taking ofT
the consideration and the voluntary neglect and rude
shufflings of our cases of conscience. For then we
shall see things as they are, the evil circumstances
and the crooked intentions, the adherent unhand-
someness and the direct crimes : for all things are
laid up safely ; and though we draw a curtain of a
cobweb over them, and sew fig-leaves before our
shame, yet God shall draw away the curtain, and for-
getfulness shall be no more, because with a taper in
the hand of God all the corners of our nastiness
shall be discovered. And 2. It signifies this also :
that not only the justice of God shall be con-
fessed by us in our own shame and condemnation,
but the evil of the sentence shall be received iato us,
to melt our bowels and to break our hearts in pieces
within us, because we are the authors of our own

40 Christ's advent to judgment, inierm, 11.

death, and our own inliuman hands have torn our
soals in nieces. Thus far the Jiorrours are great, and
when evil men consider it, it is certain they must be
afraid to die. Even they that have lived well have
some sad considerations, and the tremblings of humi-
hty, and suspicion of themselves. I remember »S/.
Ci/prian tells of a good man, who in his agony of
death saw a phantasm of a noble angelical shape, who
frowning and angry said to him, Pati timetis^ exire
-non vultis, Quid faciam vobis ? Ye cannot endure sick-
ness, ye are troubled at the evils of the world, and
yet you are loath to die and to be quit of them, what
shall I do to you ? Although this is apt to represent
every man's condition more or less, yet concerning
persons of wicked lives, it hath in it too many sad de-
grees of truth; they are impatient of sorrow, and just-
ly fearful of death, because they know not how to
comfort themselves in the evil accidents of their lives;
and their conscience is too polluted to take death for
sanctuary, to hope to have amends made to their
condition by the sentence of the day of judgment.
Evil and sad is their condition, who cannot be con-
tented here, nor blessed hereafter ; whose life is their
misery, and their conscience is their enemy ; whose
grave is their prison, and death their undoing ; and
the sentence of dooms-day, the beginning of an intole-
rable condition. -

3. The tiiird sort of accusers, are the devils ; and
they will do it with malicious and evil purposes ;
tlie prince of the devils hath Ai^/Soxo? for one of his
chiefest appellatives: tlic accuser of the hretJiren he is,
by his professed malice and employment ; and there-
fore God, who dehghts that his mercy should triumph,
and his goodness prevail over all the malice of men
and devils, hath appointed one whose office is o^iyxm
Kov AVTiKiycvix to reprove the accuser, and to resist the
enemy, to be a defender of their cause who belong to

Serw. II. Christ's advent to judgment. 41

God. The Holy Spirit is n«ga;cx),7oc a defender, the
evil spirit is AtACoKo^ the accuser, and they that in this
life belong to one or the other, shall in the same
proportion be treated at the day of judgment. The
devil shall accuse the bretliren^ that is the saints and
servants of God., and shall tell concerning their follies
and infirmities, the sins of their youth and the weak-
ness of their age, the imperfect grace and the long
schedule of omissions of duty, their scruples and
their fears, their diffidences and pusillanimity, and
all those things which themselves by strict examina-
tion find themselves guilty of and have confessed, all
their shame and the matter of their sorrows, their
evil intentions and their little plots, their carnal con-
fidences and too fond adherences to the things of this
M'^orld, their indulgence and easiness of government,
their wilder joys and freer meals, their loss of time
and their too forward and apt compliances, their
trifling arrests and little peevishnesses, the mixtures
of the world with the things of the spirit, and all the
incidences of humanity he will bring forth, and aggra-
vate them by the circumstance of ingratitude, and the
breach of promise, and the evacuating of their holy
purposes, and breaking their resolutions, and rifling
their vows; and all these things being drawn into
an entire representment, and the bills clogged by
numbers, will make the best men in the world seem
foul and unhandsome, and stained with the charac-
ters of death and evil dishonour. But for these there
is appointed a Defender; the Holy Spirit that maketh
intercession for us, shall then also interpose, and
against all these things shall oppose the passion of
our blessed Lord, and upon all their defects shall cast
the robe of his righteousness ; and the sins of their
youth shall not prevail so much as the repentance of
their age ; and their omissions be excused by proba-
ble intervening causes, and their little escapes shall

VOL, I. 7

42 CMKlSl's ADVENT TO JUDGMENT. Semi. IL

appear single and in disunion, because they were
always kept asunder by penitential prayers and sigli-
ings, and their seldom returns of sin by their daily
watchfulness, and their often infirmities by the since-
rity of their souls, and their scruples by their zeal, and
their passions by their love, and all by the mercies
of God and the sacrifice which their Judge offiered,
and the Holy Spirit made effective by daily graces
and assistances. These therefore infallibly go to the
portion of the right hand, because the Lord our God
shall answer for them. But as for the wicked., it
is not so with them ; for although the plain story of
their life be to them a sad condemnation, yet what
will be answered when it shall be told concerning
them, that they despised God's mercies, and feared
not his angry judgments; that they regarded not his
word and loved not his excellencies ; that they were
not persuaded by the promises, nor affrighted by his
threatenings ; that they neither would accept his go-
vernment nor his blessings ; that all the sad stories
that ever happened in both the worlds (in all which
himself did escape till the day of his death, and was
not concerned in them, save only that he was called
upon by every one of them, which he ever heard, or
saw, or was told of, to repentance,) that all these
were sent to him in vain ,'' But cannot the Accuser
truly say to the Judge concerning such persons, the j
were thine by creation, but mine by their own choice :
thou didst redeem them indeed, but they sold them-
selves to me for a trifle, or for an unsatisfying inte-
rest : thou diedst for them, but they obeyed my com-
mandments ; I gave them nothing, I promised them
nothing but the filthy pleasure of a night, or the joys
of madness, or the delights of a disease : I never
hanged upon the cross three long hours for them,
nor endured the labours of a poor life thirty-three
years together for their interest; only when thej

Serm. II. Christ's advent to judgment. 43

were thine by the merit of thy death, they quickly
became mine by the demerit of their ingratitude ;
and when thou hadst clothed their soul with thy
robe, and adorned them by thy graces, we stripped
them naked as their shame, and only put on a robe
of darkness, and they thought themselves secure, and
went dancing to their grave like a drunkard to a
fight, or a fly unto a candle ; and therefore they that
did partake with us in our faults, must divide with
us in our portion and fearful interest ? This is a sad
story, because it ends in death, and there is nothing to
abate or lessen the calamity. It concerns us there-
fore to consider in time, tliat he that tempts us will
accuse us, and what he calls pleasant now, he shall
then say was nothings and all the gains that now in-
vite earthly souls and mean persons to vanity, Was
nothing but the seeds of folly, and the harvest is pain
and sorrow, and shame eternal. But then since this
horrour proceeds upon the account of so many accu-
sers, God hath put it in our power, by a timely ac-
cusation of ourselves in the tribunal of the court
Christian, to prevent all the arts of aggravation which
at dooms-day shall load foolish and undiscerning souls.
He that accuses himself of his crimes here, means to
forsake them, and looks upon them on all sides, and
spies out his deformity, and is taught to hate them, he
is instructed and prayed for, he prevents the anger of
God and defeats the devil's mance ; and, by making
shame the instrument of repentance, he takes aAvay
the sting, and makes that to be his medicine which
otherwise would be his death : and concerning this
exercise, I shall only add what \he. Patriarch of Alex-
andria told an old religious person in his hermitage^
having asked him what he found in that desert; he
was answered only this, Indesi neuter culpare et judicare
meipsum ; to judge and condemn myself perpetually,
tiiat is the employment of my solitude. The patriarch

44 Christ's advent to judgment. Serin. III.

answered, A''on est alia via, there is no other uay. By
accusing ourselves we shall make the devil's malice
useless, and our own consciences clear, and be recon-
ciled to the Judge by the severities of an early repent-
ance, and then we need to fear no accusers.

SERMON III.

PART III.

3. It remains that we consider the sentence it-
self, We must receive according to what we have done
in the body., whether it be good or bad. Judicaturo Do-
mino lugubre mundus immugiet, et tribus ad tribvm pec-
tor a ferient. Potentissimi quondam rcges mido latere
palpitabunt : so St. Hierom. meditates concerning the
terrour of this consideration. " The whole world shall
groan when the Judge comes to give his sentence,
tribe and tribe shall knock their sides together;
and through the naked breasts of the most migh-
ty kings, you shall see their hearts beat with fear-
ful tremblings." Tunc Aristotelis argumenta parum
proderunt., cum venerit Jilius pauperculae guaestuariae
judicare orbem terrae. Nothing shall then be worth
owning, or the means of obtaining mercy, but a
holy conscience ; all the human craft and trifling
subtilties shall be useless, when the Son of a poor
Maid shall sit Judge over all the world. AVhen
the prophet Joel was describing the formidable ac-
cidents in the day of the Lord's judgment, and the
fearful sentence of an angry Judge, he was not
able to express it, but stammered like a child, or an

Serm. IIL Christ's advent to judgment. Ab

amazed imperfect person,* A. Ji. A. diet, qma prope
est dies Domini : it is not sense at first ; he was so
amazed he knew not what to say, and the spirit oi
God was pleased to let that sign remain hke 'Aga-
memnofi's sorrow for the death of Iphigenia^ nothing
could describe it but a vail ; it must be hidden and
supposed ; and the stammering tongue that is full
of fear can best speak that terrour, which will make
all the world to cry, and shriek, and speak fearful
accents, and significations of an infinite sorrow and
amazement.

But so it is, there are two great days in which
the fate of all the world is transacted. This life is
man's day, in which man does what he pleases, and
God holds his peace. Man destroys his brother,
and destroys himself, and confounds governments,
and raises armies, and tempts to sin and delights in
it, and drinks drunk, and forgets his sorrow, and
heaps up great estates, and raises a family and a
name in the annals, and makes others fear him, and
introduces new religions, and confounds the old, and
change th articles as his interest requires, and all this
while God is silent, save that he is loud and clamo-
rous with his holy precepts, and over-rules the event ;
but leaves the desires of men to their own choice,
and their course of fife such as they generally
choose. But then God shall have his day too ; the
day of the Lord shall come, in which he shall speak,
and no man shall answer ; he shall speak in the
voice of thunder and fearful noises, and man shall do
no more as he pleases, but must sutfer as he hath
deserved. When Zedekiah reigned in Jerusalem^ and
persecuted the prophets, and destroyed the interests
of religion, and put Jeremy into the dungeon, God
held his peace ; save only, that he warned him of the

* Joel i.

46 GHRI8T*S ADVENT TO JUDGMENT. , Herm. III.

danger, and told him of the disorder ; but it was Zede-
kiah^s day, and he was permitted to do his pleasure:
but when he was led in chains to Babylon^ and his
eyes were put out with burning basins and horrible
circles of reflected fires, then Avas God's day, and his
voice was the accent of a fearful anger that broke
him all in pieces. It will be all our cases, unless
we hear God speak now, and do his work, and serve
his interest, and bear ourselves in our just propor-
tions, that is, as such, the very end of whose being,
and all our faculties, is to serve God, and do justice
and charities to our brother. For if we do the
work of God in our own day, we shall receive an
infinite mercy in the day of the Lord. But what
that is, is now to be inquired.

What have we done in the bodyf] But certainly
this is the greatest terrour of all. The thunders and
the fires, the earthquakes and the trumpets, the
brightness of holy angels, and the horrour of accursed
spirits, the voice of the archangel (who is the prince
of the heavenly host) and the majesty of the judge,
in whose service all that army stands girt with holi-
ness and obedience, all those strange circumstances
which have been already reckoned, and all those
others which we cannot understand, are but little
preparatories and umbrages of this fearful circum-
stance. All this amazing majesty and formidable
preparatories are for the passing of an eternal sen-
tence upon us according to what we have done in
the body. Wo and alas ! and God help us all. All
mankind is an enemy to God, his nature is accursed,
and his manners are depraved. It is with the nature
of man, and Avith all his manners, as Philemon said
of the nature of foxes.

S^rm. III. Christ's advent to judgment. 47

*Ax«wriX5t? Ti( ffuya.ya.yoi, (aim <|iua-/i'
' ATTaL^sLTrairiy o^|.«Tau

Every fox is crafty and mischievous, and if you
gather a whole herd of them, there is not a good
natured beast amongst them all : so it is w^ith man ;
by nature he is the child of ivrath, and by his man-
ners he is the child of the devil; we call Christian,
and we dishonour our Lord, and we are brethren,
but we oppress and murder one another; it is a great
degree of sanctity now-a-days not to be so wicked
as the* worst of men ; and we live at the rate, as if
the best of men did design to themselves an easier
condemnation ; and as if the generality of men consi-
dered not concerning the degrees of death, but did
believe that in hell no man shall perceive any ease or
refreshment in being tormented with a slower fire.
For consider Avhat we do in the body ; twelve or four-
teen years pass, before we choose good or bad ; and
of that which remains, above half is spent in sleep
and the needs of nature ; for the other half, it is
divided as the stag was when the beasts went a hunt-
ing, the lion hath five parts of six : the business of
the world takes so much of our remaining portion,
that religion and the service of God have not much
time left that can be spared ; and of that which can,
if we consider how much is allowed to crafty arts of
cozenage, to oppression and ambition, to greedy
desires, and avaricious prosecutions, to the vanities of
our youth, and the proper sins of every age, to the
mere idleness of man and doing nothing, to his fan-
tastick imaginations, of greatness and pleasures, of
great and little devices, of impertinent law-suits and
uncharitable treatings of our brother; it will be
intolerable, when we consider that we are to stand or
fall eternally according to what we have done in
the body. Gather it altogether and set it before thy

48 Christ's advent to judgment. laferm. III.

eyes ; alms and prayers are the sum of all thy good.
Were thy prayers made in fear and holiness, with
passion and desire ? Were they not made unwilling-
ly, weakly, and wanderingly, and abated with sins m
the greatest part of thy life ? Didst thou pray with
the same affection and labour as thou didst purchase
thy estate ? Have thine alms been more than thy
oppressions, and according to thy power ? And by
what means didst thou judge concerning it? How
much of our time was spent in that? And how much
of our estate was spent in this ? But let us go one
step further : How many of us love our enemies ? or
pray for, and do good to them that persecute and
affront us ? or overcome evil with good, or turn the
face again to them that strike us, rather than be re-
venged ? or suffer ourselves to be spoiled or robbed
without contention and uncharitable courses ? or
lose our interest rather than lose our charity ? And
yet by these precepts we shall be judged. I instance
but once more. Our blessed Saviour spake a hard
saying : Every idle word that men shall speak, they
shall give account thereof at the day ofjudo^ment. For
by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words
thou shalt be condemned ;* and upon this account may
every one weeping and trembling say with Jobj
Quid faciam cum resurrexerit ad judicandum Deus ?
What shall I do, when the Lord shall come to judg-
ment ;t Of every idle word] O blessed God ! what
shall become of them who love to prate continually,
to tell talcs, to detract, to slander, to backbite, to
praise themselves, to undervalue others, to compare,
to raise divisions, to boast ? t«c /« <pgoyg«(rf/ m^xy o^6irraJ>,it
a-vBTvoc, ovK^fjiTrimv yovv; who sliall be ablc to stRud Upright,
not bowing the knee with the intolerable load of the
sins of his tongue ? If of every idle word we must

* Mat. xii. 36. f Job xxxi. 14.

5erm. Ilf. ghrist's advent to judgment. 49

give account, what shall we do for those malicious
words that dishonour God, or do despite to our
brother ? Remember how often we have tempted
our brother, or a silly woman, to sin and death ?
How often we have pleaded for unjust interests, or
by our wit have cozened an easy and a believing
person, or given ill sentences, or disputed others into
false persuasions ? Did* we never call good evil, or
evil o-ood ? Did we never say to others. Thy cause is
ri--»'ht: when nothiilir made it rio;ht but favour and mo-
ney, a false advocate or a covetous judge r t^*v („fxcL a^yov,
so said (yhrist, every idle word, that is, '^•^v p^« kivcv, so
Sf. Paul uses it,* every false word^ every He shall be
called to judgment; or as some copies read it, way
f-A/A^ mvi^^v, every wicked word shall be called to judg-
ment. For by [«g>ov] idle words^ are not meant
words that are unprofitable or unwise, for fools and
silly persons speak most of those and have the least
accounts to make; but by vain the Jews usually
understood yb/je ; and to give their mind to vanity^ or
to speak vanity^ is all one, as to mind or speak false-
hoods with malicious and evil purposes. But if
every idle word, that is, every vain and lying word
shall be called to judgment, what shall become of
men that blaspheme God, or their rulers, or princes
of the people, or their parents ? that dishonour the
religion, and disgrace the ministers ? that corrupt
justice and pervert judgment? that preach evil doc-
trines, or declare perverse sentences? that take
God's holy name in vain, or dishonour the name of
God by trifling and frequent swearings ; that holy
name by which we hope to be saved, and which all
the angels of God fall down to, and worship ? these
things are to be considered, for by our own words we
stand or fall ; that is, as in human judgments th«

* Eph. V. 6.
VOL. I. 8

30 Christ's advent to judgment. Serm. Ill'

confession of the party, and the contradiction of him-
self, or the falling in the circumstances of his story,
are the confidences or presumptions of law by which
judges give sentence ; so shall our words be, not
only the means of declaring a secret sentence, but a
certain Instrument of being absolved or condemned.
But upon these premises we see what reason we
have to fear the sentence of that day, who have sin-
ned with our tongues so often, so continually, that if
there were no other actions to be accounted for, we
have enough in this account to make us die, and yet
have committed so many evil actions, that If our
words were wholly forgotten, we have infinite rea-
son to fear concerning the event of that horrible
sentence. The effect of Avhich consideration is this,
that we set a guard before our lips, and watch over
bur actions with a care, equal to that fear which
shall be at dooms-day, when we are to pass our sad
accounts. But I have some considerations to in-
terpose.

1. But (that the sadness of this may a httle be
relieved, and our endeavours be encouraged to a
timely care and repentance) consider that this great
sentence, although it shall pass concerning little
things ; yet it shall not pass by little portions, but
by general measures ,• not by the little errours of cue
day, but by the great proportions of our life ; for
God takes not notice of the infirmities of honest
persons that always endeavour to avoid every sin,
but in little intervening instances are surprised ;
but he judges us by single actions, if they are great,
and of evil effects; and by little small instances, if
they be habitual. No man can take care concern-
ing every minute ; and therefore concerning it
Christ will not pass sentence but by the discern-
ible portions of our limo, by humane actions, by
things cf choice and deliberation, and by general

Serm. III. Christ's advent to judgment. 51

precepts of care and watchfulness, this sentence
shall be exacted. 2. The sentence of that day shall
be passed, not by the proportions of an angel, but
by the measures of a man ; the first follies are not
unpardonable, but may be recovered ; and the se-
cond are dangerous, and the third are more fatal ;
but nothing is unpardonable but perseverance in
evil courses. 3. The last judgment shall be trans-
acted by the same principles by which we are
guided here; not by strange and secret proposi-
tions, or by the fancies of men, or bj the subtilties of
useless distinctions, or evil persuasions ; not by the
scruples of the credulous, or the interest of sects, nor
the proverbs of prejudice, nor the uncertain detini-
tions of them that give laws to subjects, by expound-
ing the decrees of princes; but by the plain rules
of justice, by the ten commandments, by the first ap-
prehensions of conscience, by the plain rules of scrip-
ture, and the rules of an honest mind, and a certain
justice. So that by this restraint and limit of the final
sentence, we are secured that we shall not fall by
scruple or by ignorance, by interest or by faction, by
false persuasions of others, or invincible prejudice of
Our own ; but we shall stand or fall by plain and easy
propositions, by chastity or uncleanness, by justice or
mjustice, by robbery or restitution : and of this we
have a great testimony by our Judge and Lord him-
self; whatsoever ye shall hind in earth shall be bound
in heaven^ and ichatsoever ye loose shall be loosed
there ; that is, you shall stand or fall according to the
Sermons of the gospel ; as the ministers of the word
are commanded to preach, so ye must live here, and
so ye must be judged hereafter ; ye must not look for
that sentence by secret decrees or obscure doctrines,
but by plain precepts and certain rules. But there
are yet some more degrees of mercy. 4. That sen-
tence shall pass upon us, not after the met jures of na-

52 Christ's advent to jUDGMEffr. Serm. III.

ture, and possibilities, and utmost extents, but by the
mercies of the covenant: ^^e shall be judged as
Christians rather than as men ; that is, as persons to
■whom much is pardoned, and much is pitied, and
many things are (not accidentally, but consequent!})
indulged, and great helps are ministered, and many
remedies supplied, and some mercies extra-regulaily
conveyed, and their hopes enlarged upon the stock
of an infinite mercy, tiiat hath no bounds but our
needs, our capacities, and our proportions to glory.
5. The sentence is to be given by him that once
died for us, and does now pray for us, and perpetu-
ally intercedes ; and upon souls that he loves, and in
the salvation of which himself hath a great interest
and increase of joy. And now upon these premises
we may dare to consider, what the sentence itself
shall be, that shall never be reversed, but shall last for
ever and ever.

Whether it be good or bad.] I cannot discourse now
the greatness of the good or bad, so far, I mean, as is
revealed to us ; the considerations are too long to be
crowded into the end of a sermon ; only in general :
1. if It be good, it is greater than all the good of this
world, and every man's share then, in every instant of
his blessed eternity, is greater than all the pleasures
of mankind in one heap.

'D.V TOK d-ioi; avSgaiTToc tv^^tml rv^uv,

A man can never wish for any thing greater than
this immortality, said Posidipjms. 2. To which I
add this one consideration, that the portion of the
good at the day of sentence shall be so great, that af-
ter all the labours of our life, and suti'e ring persecu-
tions, and enduring atiVonts, and the labour of love,
and the continual fears and cares of the whole dura"

Serm. Ill, Christ's advent to judgment. ' 53

tion and abode, it rewards it all, and gives infinitely
more : non sunt condignae passiones hujus saeculi ; all
the torments and evils of this world are not to be esti-
mated with the joys of the blessed : it is the gift of
God ; a donative beyond the c>wov, the milUary sti-
pend; it is beyond our work and beyond our wages,
and beyond the promise and beyond our thoughts,
and above our understandings, and above the highest
heavens; it is a participation of the joys of God, and
of tile inheritance of the Judge himself.

'Okk iVTlv 'friku.Ta.ir3-' cvS'' o<pSoi\fiAot<rtv ipiyjTov

^HfXiliPOlC-, H P^S'g' ka.Cuv, ifTTleri fAiyiTTH

HuQovg oLvB^ecTrna-tv 'u./ufjiU.^ilos it; cpgsva. TriTrlit .*

It is a day of recompenses, in which all our sor-
rows shall be turned into joys, our persecutions into
a crown, the cross into a throne, poverty into the
riches of God; loss, and affronts, and inconveni-
ences, and death, into sceptres, and hymns, and
rejoicings, and Hallelujahs, and such great things
which are fit for us to hope, but too great for us to
discourse of, while we see as in a glass darkly and
imperfectly. And he that chooses to do an evil ra-
ther than suflfer one, shall find it but an ill exchange,
that he deferred his little to change for a great one.
I remember that a servant in the old comedy, did
choose to venture the lash rather than to feel a pre-
sent inconvenience, quia illud aderat malum^ istiid ahe-
rat longius : illud erat praesens^ huic erat diecula ;t
but this will be but an ill account, when the rods shall
for the delay be turned into scorpions, and from easy
shall become intolerable. Better it is to suffer here,

* Xenoph.

f Because the evil was immediate, but the punishment distant ; the
one present, the other delayed.

54 Christ's auyent to judgment. Serm. III.

and to stay till the day of restitution for the good and
the holy portion ; for it will recompense both for the
sulfering and the stay.

But how if the portion be bad? It shall be bad to
the greatest part of mankind ; that is a fearful con-
sideration ; the greatest part of men and women
shall dwell in the portion of devils to eternal ages.
So that these portions are like the prophet's hgs in
the vision ; the good are the best that ever were, and
the worst are so bad, that worse cannot be imagin-
ed. For thou2:h in hell the accursed souls shall have
no worse than they have deserved, and there are not
there overrunning measures as there are in heaven,
and therefore that the joys of heaven are infniitely
greater joys than the pains of hell are great pains,
yet even these are a full measure to a full iniquity,
pain above patience, sorrows without ease, amaze-
ment without consideration, despair without the
intervals of a little hope, indignation without the
possession of any good ; there dwells envy and con-
fusion, disorder and sad remembrances, perpetual
woes and continual shriekings, uneasiness, and all the
evils of the soul. But if we will represent it in seme
orderly circumstances, we may consider:

1. That here, all the trouble of our spirits are little
participations of a disorderly passion; a man desires
earnestly, but he hath not, or he envies because an-
other hath something besides him, and he is troubled
at the want of one, when at the same time he hath a
hundred good things ; and yet ambition and envy, im-
patience and confusion, covetousness and lust, are all
of them very great torments ; but there these shall be
in essence and abstracted beings; the spirit of envt/,
and the spirit of sorrow ; devils, that shall inllict all
the whole nature of the evil, and pour it into the
minds of accursed men, where it shall sit without
abatement : for he that envies there, envies not for

Serm. III. Christ's advent to judgment. 55

the eminence of another that sits a little above him,
and excels him in some one good, but he shall envy
for all ; because the sainis have all, and they have
none ; therefore all their passions are integral, ab-
stracted, perfect passions ; and all the sorrow in the
world at this time, is but a portion of sorrow ; every
man hath his share, and yet besides that which all sad
men have, there is a great deal of sorrow which they
have not, and all the devil's portion besides that ; but
in hell, they shall have the whole passion of sorrow
in every one, just as the whole body of the sun is seen
by every one in the same horizon : and he that Is in
darkness, enjoys it not by parts, but the whole dark-
ness is the portion of one as well as of another. If
this consideration be not too metaphysical, I am sure
it Is very sad, and it relies upon this ; that as in hea-
ven there are some holy spirits, whose crown is all
love : and some in which the brightest jewel is under-
standing ; some are purity, and some are holiness to
the Lord : so in the regions of sorrow, evil and sor-
row have an essence and proper being, and are set
there to be suffered entirely by every undone man,
that dies there for ever.

2. The evils of this world are material and bodily;
the pressing of a shoulder, or the straining of a joint;
the dislocation of a bone, or the extending of an ar-
tery ; a bruise In the flesh, or the pinching of the
skin ; a hot liver, or a sickly stomach ; and then the
mind is troubled because its Instrument is 111 at ease :
but all the proper troubles of this life are nothing but
the effects of an uneasy body, or an abused fancy;
and therefore can be no bigger than a blow or a
couzenage, than a wound or a dream ; only the
trouble increases as the soul works it; and if it makes
reflex acts, and begins the evil upon its own account,
then It multiplies and doubles, because the proper
sceneof grief is opened, and sorrow peeps through

56 Christ's advext to judgment. Serm. ttJ^

tlie corners of the soul. But in those regions and
days of sorrow, when the soul shall be no more de-
peudini^ upon the body, but the perfect principle of
all its actions, the actions are quick and the percep-
tions brisk ; the passions are extreme and the mo-
tions are spiritual ; the pains are like the horrours of a
devil and the groans of an evil spirit; not slow like
the motions of a heavy foot, or a loaden arm, but
quick as an angel's wing, active as lightning; and a
grief //if//, is nothing like a grief /<oi^; and the words
of a man's tongue which are fitted to the uses of this
world, are as unlit to signify the evils of the next, as
person^ and nature^ and kand^ and motion^ and passion,
are to represent the effects of the divine attributes,
actions, and subsistence.

3. The evil portion of the next world is so great,
that God did not create or design it in the first inten-
tion of things, and production of essences ; he made
the kingdom of heaven utto Kxi^Ctxnc xo<r^sy, fro7n (he foun-
dation of the world ; for so it is observable that Christ
shall say to the sheep at his right hand, receive the
kintrdom prepared for you from the beginning of the
world ;* but to the goats and accursed spirits he speaks
of no such primitive and original design; it was ac-
cidental and a consequent to horrid crimes, that God
W'as forced to invent and to after-create that place of
torments.

4. And when God did create and prepare that
place, he did not at all intend it for man, it was pre-
pared for the devil and his angels, so saith the Judge
himself. Go ye cursed into everlasting fire, prepared

for the devil and his angcls^'f o inoif^ourn o 7raT».j ^ou t» ^aSoXet^

which my Father prepared for the devil, so some copies
read it : God intended it not for man, but man would
imitate the devil's pride, and listen to the whispers of

* Matth. XXV. 34. f Verse 41.

Serm. Iff. Christ's advent to judgment. 57

an evil spirit, and follow his temptations, and re-
bel against his Maker; and then God also, against
his first design, resolved to throw such persons i.ito
that place that was prepared for the devil : for so
great was the love of God to mankind, that he pre-
pared joys Infinite, and never censing, for man before
he had created him ; but he did not predetermine
him to any evil ; but when he was forced to It by
man's malice, he doing what God forbade him, God
cast him thither where he never Intended him ; but It
was not man's portion : he designed It not at first,
and at last also he invited him to repentance ; and
when nothing could do It, he threw man Into another's
portion, because he would not accept of what was
designed to be his own.

5. The evil portion shall be continual, without In-
termission of evil ; no days of rest, no nights of sleep,
no ease from labour, no periods of the stroke nor
taking off the hand, no Intervals between blow^ and
blow ; but a continued stroke, which neither shortens
the life, nor Introduces a brawny patience, or the
toleration of an ox, but It is the same in every in-
stant, and great as the first stroke of lightning ; the
smart is great for ever as at the first change, from
the rest of the ijrave to the flames of that horrible
burnino*. The church of Rojne, amonerst some other
strange opinions, hath Inserted this one into her pub-
lick offices ; that the perishing souls in hell may have
sometimes remission and refreshment, like the fits of
an intermitting fever : for so it is in the Roman Mis-
sal printed at Paris, 1626, in the mass for the dead;
ut quia de ejus vitae qualitate di^dimns, etsi plenam
veniam anima ipsius obtinere non potest, saltern vel inter
ipsa tormenta quaeforsan patitur, refrigerium de abun'

VOL. I. 9

58 Christ's advent to juugmfnt. Serin. Ilf.

dantia 7niserationvra tuarvm scntiat:* and something
like this is iXmi o{ Prudcntius^

Sunt et spirilibus- saepe nocentibus,
Poeiiaruin celebres sub Styge IVriae, etc.

The evil spirits have ease of their pain, and he names
their holiday, then when the resurrection of our
Lord from the o-iave is celebrated :

JMarcerit siippliciis Tartara niitibiis,
Exultatqiie siii earceris otio
Vinbrarum populiis liber ab ignibus :
Nee lervcnt solito flumina sulpbure.f

They then thought, that when the paschal taper
burned, the flames of hell could not burn till the
holy wax was spent: but because this is a fancy
witliout ground or revelation, and is against the
analogy of all those expressions of our Loid, uherc
the worm dieth not, and the fire is never quenched, and
divers others, it is sufficient to have noted it with-
out farther consideration ; the pains of hell have no
rest, no drop of water is allowed to cool the tongue,

* And forasmuch as we doubt respecting the good life of our
broth'T. wo pray, that, altiiough his soul obtain not a full reinission,
nevertheless, from the abundance of thy mercy, lie may experience
some alleviation of his torment.

f Hymn 5. lib. Cathemer.

That sacred hour

E'en to the damned some small remission brings,
And Hell's fierce flames awhile less fiercely burn.

he great dramatick poet, respecting the Nativity,
(Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes,
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated.
The bird of dawning singeth all night long.
And then, they say, no sprite dares stir abroad;
The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike ;
No fairy takes, nor Witch hath power to charm ;
So hallowed and so gracious is the lime.

Serm. III. Christ's advent to judgment. 59

there is no advocate to plead for them, no mercy
belongs to their portion, but fearful wrath and con-
tinual burnings.

6. And yet this is not the worst of it; for as It
is continual during its abode, so its abode is for
ever ; it is continual, and eternal. Tertullian. speaks
soraethinp- otherwise, pro magnitudine cruciatus nou
diuturni., verum sempiterni ; not continual, or the
pains of every day, but such which shall last for
ever. But Ladantius is more plain in this affair :
the same divine fire by the same power and force shall
burn the wicked, and shall repair instantly whatsoever
of the body it does consume : ac sibi ipsi aetermim pa-
bulum sabministrabit, and shall make lor itself an
eternal fuel.

" Vermibus et flammis et discriiciatibiis aeviira
" Irainortale dedit, senio ne poena periret
" Non peieunte aniina "

So Prudentius, eternal worms, and unextinguished
flames, and immortal punishment is prepared for the
ever-never dying souls of wicked men. Origen is
charged by the ancient churches for saying, that after
a long time the devils and the accursed souls shall
be restored to the kingdom of God, and that after a
long time again they shall be restored to their state,
and so it was from their fall and shall be for ever;
and it may be that might be the meaning of lerlul-
lian''s expression, of cruciatus non diiitnrni scd sem-
piierni. Epiphaidus charges not tlie opinion upon
Origen-, and yet he was free enough in his animad-
version and reproof of him ; but St. Austin did, and
confuted the opinion in his books de civitate Dei.
However, Origen was not the first that said, the
pains of the damned should cease ; Justin Jliartyr in
his dialogue with Tryphon expresses it thus ; r,n he

60 Christ's advent to judgment. Serin. HI.

do I say that all the sovls do die, for that indeed uoidd
be to the ivicked again unlooked for : What then?
The souls of the godly in a better place, of the ivicked
in a u'0)\'<e, do tarry the time of judgment ; then they
that are worthy shall never die again, but those, that are
designed to punishment, shall abide so long as God please
to have them to live and to be punished. But I obseive,
that the primitive doctors were very wiUing to be-
lieve, that tlie mercy of God would iind out a period
to tlie torment of accursed souls ; but such a
period, which should be nothins^ but eternal destruc-
tion, called by the scripture the second death : onljr
Origen, as I observed, is charged by St. Austin to
have said, they shall return into joys, and back
a^^ain to hell by an eternal revolution. But concern-
ing the death of a Avicked soul, and its being broke
into pieces with fearful torments, and consumed with
the wrath of God, they had entertained some dif-
ferent fancies very early in the church, as their sen-
tences are collected by St. Hierom,e at the end of
his commentaries upon Isaiah. And Irenaeus dis-
putes it largely, " That they that are unthankful
to God in this short life, and obey him not, shall
never have an eternal duration of life in the ages to
come, sed ipse se privat in saeculum saecnli perseve-
rantia,* he deprives his soul of hvingto eternal ages;
for he supposes an immortal duration not to be
natuial to the soul, but a gift of God, which he can
take away, and did take away from Adam, and re-
stored it again in Christ to them that believe in him
and obey him : for the other ; they shall be raised
again to sutler shame, and fearful torments, and ac-
cording to the degree of their sins, so shall be con-
tinued in their sorrows ; and some shall die, and
some shall not die : the devil, and the beast, and theif

♦ liib. ii. cap. 65,

Serm. III. Christ's advent to judgment. 61

that ivorshipped the heast^ and they that were marked
with his character^ these, >S7. John salth, shall be tor-
mented for ever and ever ; he does not say so of all,
b'lt of some certain great criminals ; orac av @m s^«; ;■,
all so long as God please, some for ever and ever,
and some not so severely ; and whereas the general
sentence is given to all wicked persons, to all on the
left hand, to go into everlasting fire : it is answered,
that the fire indeed is everlasting, but not all that
enters into it is everlasting, but only the devils
for whom it was prepared, and others more mighty
criminals (according as St. John intimates :) though
also everlasting signifies only to the end of its proper
period.

Concerning this doctrine of theirs so severe, and
yet so moderated, there is less to be objected than
against the supposed fancy of Origen : for it is a
strange consideration to suppose an eternal torment
to those to whom it was never threatened, to those
who never heard of Christ, to those that lived pro-
bably well, to heathens of good lives, to ignorants
and untaught people, to people surprised in a single
crime, to men that die young in their natural folhes
and foolish lusts, to them that fall in a sudden gayety
and excessive joy, to all alike ; to all infinite and
eternal, even to unwarned people ; and that this
should be inflicted by God, who infinitely loves his
creatures, who died for them, who pardons easily, and

Eities readily, and excuses much, and delights in our
eing saved, and would not have us to die, and takes
little things in exchange for great: it is certain that
God's mercies are infinite, and it is also certain that
the matter of eternal torments cannot truly be un-
derstood ; and when the school-men go about to
reconcile the divine justice to that severity, and
consider why God punishes eternally a temporal
sin, or a state of evil, they speak variously, and

62 Christ's advent to judgment. Scrm. lit.

uncertainly, and unsatlsfyingly. But, that in this
question we may separate the certain from the
uncertain.

1. It is certain that tlie torments of hell shall cer-
tainly last as long as the soul lasts ; for eternal and
everlasting can signify no less but to the end of that
duration, to t!ie perfect end of the period in which it
signifies. So Sodom and Gomorrah^ when God rain-
ed down hell from heaven upon the earth (as Sulviuri's
expression is) they are said to svjf'er the vengeance of
eternal fire : that is, of a fire that consumed tiiem
finally, and they never were restored : and so the
accursed souls shall suffer torments till they be con-
sumed ; who, because they are immortal either natu-
rally or by gift, shall be tormented for ever, or till
God shall take from them the life that he restored to
them, on purpose to give them a capacity of being
miserable, and the best that they can expect is to de-
spair of all good, to suffer the wrath of God, never
to come to any minute of felicity, or of a tolerable
state, and to be held in pain till God be weary of
striking. This is the gentlest sentence of some of
the old doctors.

But 2. The generahty of Christians have been
taught to believe worse things yet concerning
them; and the words of our blessed Lord are
acxsto-zf a/w/oc, eternal affliction or smiting;

Nee mortis po^nas mors altera fuiiet hiijus,
Horaq. erit taulis ultima nulla malis.*

And St. Johu who well knew the mind of his Lord,
saith ; the smoke of their torment ascendcth vp for
«ver and ever, and they have no rest day nor night ;t

* Pains of tliis second death no death shall cure.

And i'roiu this torment rest shall never come.

f Rev. xiv. 11.

Serm. HI. Christ's advent to judgment. 63

that is, their torment is continual, and it is eternal.
Their second death shall be but a dying to all feli-
city, for so death is taken in scripture ; Adam died
when he ate the forbidden fruit; that is, he was
liable to sickness and sorrows, and pain and disso-
lution of soul and body: and to be miserable, is
the worse death of the two : they shall see the
eternal felicity of the saints, but they shall never
taste of the holy chalice. Those joys shall indeed
be for ever and ever ; for immortality is part of
their reward, and on them the second death shall have
no power ; but the wicked shall be tormented hor-
ribly a!id insufferably till death and hell be throivn
into the lake of jire^ and shall be no more, vhich is
the second death* But that they may not imagine
that this second death shall be the end of their
pains, St. John speaks expressly what that is. Rev.
xxi. 8. The feai-fid and unbelieving, the abominable
and the 7nurderers., the whoremongers and sorcerers^
the idolaters and all liars, shall have their part in the
lake, which burneth with fire and brimstone, which is
the second death; no dying there, I ut a being tor-
mented, burning in a lake of fire, that is the second
death. For if life be reckoned a blessing, then to
be destitute of all blessing is to have no life, and,
therefore, to be intolerably miserable is this second
death, that is, death eternal.

3. And yet if God should deal with man here-
after more mercifully and proportionably to his
weak nature, than he does to angels, and as he
admits him to repentance here, so in hell also to a
period of his smart, even when he keeps the angels
m pain for ever; yet he will never adntit him to
favour, he shall be tormented beyond all the mea-
sure of human ages, and be destroyed for ever and
ever.

* Rev. XX. 14.

64 Christ's advf.nt to judgment. Serm. III.

It concerns us all, who hear and believe these
things, to do as our blessed Lord will do before the
day of his coming; he will call and convert the Jews
and strangers : conversion to God is the best pro|,ai a-
tory to dooms-day : and it concerns all them, who are
in the neiirhbourhood and frino;es of the flames of
hell, that is, in the state of sin, quickly to arise from
the danger, and shake the burning coals off our flesh,
lest it consume the marrow and the bones : exnenda
est vcloiiter de incendio sarcina^ priusqnam jiummis su-
per venientibus concremetur. Memo diu tutus est periculo
proximus.) saitli St. Cyprian, no man is safe long, that
is so near to danger; for suddenly the change will
come, in which the Judge shall be called to judgment,
and no man to plead for him, unless a good con-
science be his advocate ; and the rich shall be naked,
as a condemned criminal to execution ; and there
shall be no regard of princes or of nobles, and the
differences of men's account shall be forgotten, and
no distinction remaining but oi^ good or bad, sheep
and g-oats, blessed and accursed souls. Amons: the won-
ders of the day of judgment, our blessed Saviour reck-
ons it, that men shall be marrying and giving in mar-
riage, yj-f^win ^t iryoi/ui^ovTic, marrying and cross-marry-
mg, that is, raising families and lasting greatness and
huge estates ; when the world is to end so quickly,
and the gains of a rich purchase so very a trille, but
no trifling danger; a thing that can give no security"
to our souls, but much hazard and a great charge.
More reasonable it is, that we despise the world and
lay up for heaven, that we heap up treasures by giv-
ing ahns, and make friends of unrighteous Mammon ;
but at no hand to enter into a state of life, tliat is all
the way a hazard to the main interest, and, at the
best, an increase of the particular charge. Every
degree of riciies, every . degree of greatness, every
ambitious employment, every great fortune, every

Serm. III. Christ's advent to judgment. 65

eminency above our brother, is a charge to the ac-
counts of the last day. He tliat hves temperately
and charitably, whose employment is religion, whose
affections are fear and love, whose desires are after
heaven, and do not dwell below ; that man can long
and pray for the hastening of the coming of the day
of the Lord. He that does not really desire and long
for that day, either is in a very ill condition, or does
not understand that he is in a good. 1 will not be so
severe in this meditation as to forbid any man to
laugh, that believes himself shall be called to so severe
a judgment; yet St. Hierom said it, cor«»i coelo et terra
rationem reddemus totius nostrae vitae ; et tu rides? Hea-
ven and earth shall see all the follies and baseness of
thy life, and dost thou laugh ? That we may, but we
have not reason to laugh loudly and frequently, if
we consider things wisely, and as we are concerned :
but if we do, yetpraesentis temporis iia est agenda laeti-
tia^ ut sequentis jiidicii amaritudo nunquam recedat a
w.cmoria : so laugh here that you may not forget
your dangei , lest you weep for ever. He that thinks
most seriously and most frequently of this fearful
appearance, will find that it is better staying for his
joys till this sentence be past; for then he shall per-
ceive, whether he hath reason or no. In the mean
time wonder not, that God who loves mankind so
well, should punish him so severely: for therefore the
evil fail into an accursed portion, because they despi-
sed tliat, which God most loves, his Son and his mer-
cies^ his graces and h\s Holy Spirit; and they that
do all this, have cause to complain of nothing but
their own follies ; and they shall feel tliC accursed
consequents then, when they shall see the Judge sit
aboDC them, angry and severe, inexorable and terrible ;
under them an intolerable hell, within them, their
consciences clamorous and diseased ; ivithovt them.

VOL. I. 10

66 Christ's advent to judgment. Serm. III.

all the world on fire ; on the right hand, those men
glorified whom they persecuted or despised ; on the
left hand., the devils accusing; for this is the day of
the Lord^s terrour, and who is able to abide it ?

Seu vigilo intentus studiis, seu dorniio, semper
Judicis extremi nostras tuba personet aures.*

* In all events, let ever in mine ear
The dreadful summons of the Judge resound.

SERMON IV,

THE RETURN OF PRAYERS;

OR, THE CONDITIONS OF

A PREVAILING PRAYER.

John ix. 31.

Now we know, that God heareth not Sinners, but if any Man be a
Worshipper of God, and doth his Will, him he heareth.

I KNOW not which is the greater wonder, either that
prayer which is a duty so easy and facile, so ready
and apted to the powers, and skill, and opportunities
of every man, should have so great effects, and be
productive of such mighty blessings ; or, that we
should be so unwilling to use so easy an instrument
of procuring so much good. The nrst declares
God's goodness, but this publishes man's folly and
weakness, who finds in himself so much difhculty to
perform a condition so easy and full of advantage.
But ihe order of this felicity is knotted like the fold-
ings of a serpent; all those parts of easiness which
invite us to do the duty, are become like the joints of
a bulrush, not bendings, but consolidations and stiffen-
ings ; the very facility becomes its objection, and in
everyof its stages, we make or find a huge uneasiness.
At first we do not know what to ask ; and when w«

68 THE RETURN OP PRAYERS. Scrm. IV.

do, then we find difficulty to bring our will to desire
it ; and when that is instructed and kept in awe, it
mingles interest, and confounds the purposes ; and
when it is forced to ask honestly and severely, then
it wills so coldly, that God hates the prayer ; and if it
desires fervently, it sometimes turns that into passion,
and that passion breaks into murmurs or unquiet-
ness ; or if that be avoided, the indifferency cools in-
to death, or the fire burns violently and is quickly
spent; our desires are dull as a rock, or fugitive as
lightning : either we ask ill things earnestly, or good
things remissly ; we either court our own danger, or
are not zealous for our real safety ; or if we be right in
our matter, or earnest in our affections, and lasting
in our abode, yet we miss in the manner ; and either
we ask for evil ends, or without religious and awful
apprehensions ; or we rest in the words and significa-
tion of the prayer, and never take care to pass on to
action ; or else we sacrifice in the company of Corah^
being partners of a schism, or a rebellion in religion ;
or we bring unhallowed censers, our hearts send up
to God an unholy smoke, a cloud from the fires of
lust, and either the flames of lust or rage^ of wine
or revenge^ kindle the beast that is laid upon the
altar; or we bring swine's flesh, or a dog's neck ;
whereas God never accepts, or delights in a prayer,
unless it be for a holy things to a lawful end^ presented
imto him upon the wings of zeal and love, of" religious
sorrow, or religions joy ; by sanctified lips, and pure
hands, and a sincere heart. It must be the prayer of a
gracious man ; and he is only gracious before God,
and acceptable, and effective in his prayer, whose life
is holy, and whose prayer is holy ; for both these are
necessary ingredients to the constitution of a prevail-
ing prayer ; there is a holiness peculiar to the man, and
a holiness peculiar to the prayer, tlii\t must adorn the

Serin. IV. the return op praters. 69

prayer before it can be united to the intercession of
the holy Jesus, in which union alone our prayers can
be prevailing.

God heareth not sinners :] So the bhnd man in the
text., and confidently [this ive know ;] he had reason
indeed for his confidence ; it was a proverbial saying,
and every where recorded in their scriptures, which
were read in the synagogues every Sabbath day. For
what is the hope of the hypocrite? (saith Job;) Will
God hear his cry., ivhen trouble cometh upon him, ?* No,
he will not. For if I regard iniquity in my heart., the
Lord will not hear me,t said David ; and so said the
Spirit of the Lord by the Son of David. When dis-
tress and anguish cometh upon you: then shall they call up-
on me., but I will not answer ; they shall seek me early .^
but they shall not find me :X And Isaiah., when you spread
forth your hands., I will hide mine eyes from, you., yea
when you make many prayers., I will not hear; your
hands are full ofblood.\\ And again, When they fast., I
tvill not hear their cry., and when they will offer burnt
offerings and oblations., I will not accept them. For
they have loved to wander., they have not refrained their
feet., therefore the Lord will riot accept them ; he will now
remember their iniquity, and visit their sins.^ Upon these
and many other authorities it grew into a proverb ;
Deus non exaudit peccatores : it was a known case,
and an established rule in religion ; Wicked persons
are neither fit to pray for themselves nor for others.^

Which proposition let us tirst consider in the sense
of that purpose which the blind man spoke it in; and
then in the utmost extent of it, as its analogy and
equal reason goes forth upon us and our necessities,

*Job, xxvii. 9. t Psal. Ixvi. 18.

I Prov. i. 28. II Isa. i. 15.

5 Jer. xiv. 10, 12.

If Sec also Psal. xxxiy. 6 ; Micah iii 4 ; 1 Pet. iii. 12.

70 THE RETURN OF PRATERS. Scrm. IV-

The man was cured of his blindness, and being ex-
amined concerning him that did it, named and glori-
ed in his Physician : but the spiteful Pharisees bid
him give glorj to God, and defy the minister; for
God indeed was good, but he wrought that cure by a
wicked hand. No, (says he,) tliis is impossible. If
this man were a sinner and a false prophet, (for in
that instance the accusation was intended,) God
would not hear his prayer, and work miracles by him
in versification of a lie. A false prophet could not work
true miracles ; this hath received its diminution, when
the case was changed ; for at that time when Christ
preached, miracles were the only or the great versifi-
cation of any new revelation ; and therefore it proceed-
ing from an Almighty God, must needs be the testimo-
ny of a divine truth ; and if it could have been brought
for a lie, there could not then have been sufiicient
instruction given to mankind, to prevent tlieir belief
of false prophets and lyin^ doctrines. But when Christ
proved his doctrine by mnacles, that no enemy of his
did ever do so great before or after him ; then he also
told, that after him his friends should do greater, and
his enemies should do some, (but they were fewer,
and very inconsiderable,) and therefore could have
in them no unavoidable cause of deception, because
they were discovered by a prophecy, and caution
was given against them by him that did greater mi-
racles, and yet ought to have been believed, if he had
done but one, because against him there had been no
caution, but many prophecies creating such expec-
tations concerning him, which he verified by his great
works. So that in this sense of working miracles,
though it was infinitely true that the blind man said,
then when he said it, yet after that the case was alter-
ed : and sinners, magicians, astrologers, witches, he-
reticks, simoniacks, and wicked persons of other in-
stances, have done miracles, and God hath heard sin-

Serm. IV. the return of prayers. 71

ners, and wrought his own works by their hands, or
suffered the devil to do his works under their pre-
tences; and many at the day of judgment shall plead
that they have done miracles in Christ's name, and
yet they shall be rejected, Christ knows them not,
and their portion shall be with dogs, and goats, and
unbelievers.

There is in this case only this difference, that they
who do miracles in opposition to Christ, do them by
the power of the devil, to whom it is permitted to do
such things which we think miracles ; and that is all
one as though they were : but the danger of them is
none at all, but to them that will not believe him that
did greater miracles, and prophesied of these less,
and gave warning of their attending danger, and was
confirmed to be a true teacher by voices from hea-
ven, and by the resurrection of his body after a three
days' burial : so that to these the proposition still re-
mains true. God hears not sinners^ God does not work
those miracles ; but concerning sinning Christians^
God in this sense, and towards the purposes of mira-
cles, does hear them, and hath wrought miracles by
them, for they do them in the name of Christ ; and
therefore, Christ said, cawwo/ easily speak ill of him ;
and although they either prevaricate in their lives, or
in superinduced doctrines, yet because the miracles
are a verification of the religion, not of the opinion,
of the power of the truth of Christ, not of the vera-
city of the man, God hath heard such persons many
times whom men have long since and to this day call
hereticks, such were the JYovatians and Jlrrians ; for to
the heathen they could only prove their religion by
which they stood distinguished from them ; but we
find not that they wrought miracles among the Chris-
tians, or to verify their superstructures and private
opinions. But besides this yet, we may also by such
means arrest the forwardness of our judgments and

72 THE RETURN OF PRATERS. (ScfWJ. IV.

condemnations of persons disagreeing in their opi-
nions from us; for those persons whose faith God
confirmed by miracles, was an entire faith ; and al-
thou;^h they might have false opinions, or mistaken
explications of true opinions, eitlier inartilicial or mis-
understood, yet we have reason to believe their fialth
to be entire ; for that which God would have the
heathen to believe, and to that purpose proved u by
a miracle, himself intended to accept first to a holy
life, and then to glory. The false opinion should burn,
and themselves escape. Ore thing more is liere very
considerable, that in this very instance of working mi-
racles, God was so very careful not to hear sinners,
or permit sinners, till he had prevented ail dan-
gers to good and innocent persons, that the case of
Christ and his apostles working miracles was so
clearly separated and remarked by the tinker of
God, and distinguished from the impostures and
pretences of all the many Antichrists that appear-
ed in Palestine^ Cyprus^i Crete., iSyria, and the vi-
cinage, that there were but very few Christians
that with hearty persuasions fell away from Christ,

©*t7ov T/f rout avo Xg/<rT30 uiTdJi<fa^ui, said Gcileil., it IS not

easy to teach anew him that hath been taught by
Christ: and St. Austin tells a story of an unbeliev-
ing man, that being troubled that his wife was a
Christian, went to the oracle to ask by what means
he should alter her persuasion ; but he was answer-
ed, it could never be done, he might as well imprint
characters upon the face of a torrent or a rapid river,
or himself fly in the air, as alter the persuasion of a
hearty and an honest Christian. I would to God it
were so now in all instances, and that it were so hard
to draw men from the severities of a holy life, as of
old they could be cozened, disputed, or forced out of
their faith. Some men were vexed with hypocrisy,
and then their hypocrisy was punished Avith infidelity

Serm. IV. the return of prayers. 73

and a wretchless spirit. Demas, and Simon Magus^
and Ecebolius, and tlie lapsed confessors, are in-
stances of human craft or human weakness; but they
are scarce a number that are remarked in ancient
story to have fahen from Christianity by direct per-
suasions, or the efficacy of abusing arguments and dis-
courses. The reason of it, is the truth in the text :
God did so avoid hearing sinners in this affair, that
he never permitted them to do any miracles so as to
do any mischief to the souls of good men ; and there-
fore it is said, the enemies of Christ came in the
power of signs and wonders able to deceive {if it were
possible,) even the very elect ; but that was not pos-
sible; without their faults it could not be; the elect
were sufficiently strengthened, and the evidence of
Christ's being heard of God, and that none of his
enemies were heard of God to any dangerous effect,
was so great, that if any Christian had apostatized
or fallen away by direct persuasion, it was like the
sin of a falling angel, of so direct a malice that he
never could repent, and God never would pardon
him, as St. Paul twice remaiks in his epistle to the
Hebrews. The result of this discourse is the first
sense and explication of the words, God heareth not
sinners, viz. in that in which they are sinners : a sinner
in his manners may be heard in his prayer in order
to the confirmation of his faith, but if he be a sinner
in his faith, God hears him not at all in that w herein
he sins ; for God is truth and cannot confirm a lie,
and whenever he permitted the devil to do it, he
secured the interest of his elect, that is, of all that be-
lieve in him and love him, lifting up holy hands icithout
wrath and doubting.

2. That which yet concerns us more nearly is,
that God heareth not sinners ; that is, if we be not
good men, our prayers will do us no good; we shall
be in the condition of them that never pray at all.

VOL. I. 1.1

74 THE RETURN OP PRAYERS. Scrm. IV.

The prayers of a wicked man are like the breath of
corrupted lungs, God turns away from such unwhole-
some breathings. But that I may reduce this neces-
sary doctrine to a method, I shall consider that there
are some persons whose prayers are sins, and some
others whose prayers are ineffectual : some are such
who do not pray lawfully ; they sin when they pray,
while they remain in that state and evil condition ;
others are such who do not obtain what they pray
for, and yet their prayer is not a direct sm : the
prayer of the first is a direct abomination, the prayer
of the second is hindered ; the first is corrupted by
a direct state of sin, the latter by some intervening
imperfection and unhandsome circumstance of action;
and in proportion to these, it is required, 1. That he
be in a state and possibility of acceptation ; and, 2.
That the prayer itself be in a proper disposition.

1. Therefore we shall consider, what are those con-
ditions, which are required in every person that prays,
the want of which makes the prayer to be a sin.'*

2. What are the conditions of a good man's prayer,
the absence of which makes that even his prayer
return empty ? 3. What degrees and circumstances
of piety are required to make a man fit to be an
intercessor for others, both with holiness in himself,
and elfect to them he prays for ? And, 4. as an
appendix to these considerations, I shall add the
proper indices and signification, by which we may
make a judgment whether God hath heard our
prayers or no.

1. Whosoever prays to God while he is in a state,
or in the atfection to sin, his prayer is an abomina-
tion to God. This was a truth so believed by all
nations of the world, that in all religions they ever
appointed baptisms and ceremonial expiations, to
cleanse the persons, before they presented them-
selves in their holy offices. Deorum tcmpla cum adire
dispouilis^ ab omni vos laOepuros, lautos, castissimosque

Senn. IV. the return of prayers. 75

praestatis^ said Jlrnobius to the Gentiles : When you
address yourselves to the temples of your God^ you keep
yourselves chaste, and clean, and spotless. They washed
their hands and wore white garments, they refused to
touch a dead body, they avoided a spot upon their
clothes as they avoided a wound upon their head,

/M» KtSm^ft) ycr^ latBci^ou i<p±7r^%i7^m y.» ou ^iutrov vi. 1 hat WaS the

rehgious ground they went upon ; an impure thing
ought not to touch that which is holy, much less to
approach the Prince of purities ; and this was the
sense of the old world in their lustrations, and of the
Jews in their preparatory baptisms; they washed
their hands to signify, that they should cleanse them
from all iniquity, and keep them pure from blood and
rapine; they washed their garments; but that in-
tended, they should not be spotted with the flesh ; and
their foUies consisted in this, that they did not look
to the bottom of their lavatories; they did not see
through the vail of their ceremonies. Flagitiis omni-
bus inquinati veniunt ad precandum, et se pie sacriflcasse
opinantur, si cutem laverint, tanquam libidines intra pec-
tus inclusas ulla amnis abluat, aut ulla maria puriflcent,
said Lactantius ; they come to their prayers dressed
round about with wickedness, ut quercus hedera, and
think God will accept their offering, if their skin bft
washed ; as if a river could purify their lustful souls,
or a sea take off their guilt. But David reconciles
the ceremony with the mystery, / will wash my
hands, I will wash them in innocency, and so will I
go to thine altar. Hae sunt verae munditiae, (saith
Tertidlian,^ non quas plerique superstitione curant ad
omnem orationem, etiam cum lavacro totius corporis
aquam sumentes. " This is the true purification, not
that which most men do, superstitiously cleansing
their hands and washing when they go to prayers,
but cleansing the soul from all impiety, and leaving
every affection to sin ; then they come pur« to God :"

fB THE RETURN OF PRATERS. Semi. IK.

ftnd this is it whi( li tlie apostle also signifies, havng
translated the Gentile and Jewish ceremony into
the spirituality of tlie gospel, / will., therefore^
that men pray every ivliere, levantes puras mamis^
lifting up clean hands., so it is in the vulgar Latin;
iffim ;t«g«cj SO it is in the Greek., holy hands : that is the
purity that God looks for upon them tliat lift up their
hands to him in prayer: and tJiis very tiling is found-
ed upon the natural constitution of things, and their
essential proportion to each other.

1. It is an act of profanation for any unholy per-
son to handle holy things, and lioly offices : for
if God was ever careful to put all holy things into
chancels, and immure them with acts and laws, and
cautions of separation ; and the very sanctification
of them was nothing else but the solemn separating
them from com . ion usages, that himself might be
x3istinguished fx om men by actions of propriety ; it
is naturally certain, he that w^ould be ditierenced
from common things would be infinitely divided
from thinors that are wicked : if things that are
lawful may yet be unholy m this sense, much
more are unlawful things most unholy in all senses.
If God will not admit of that, which is bemle reli-
gion., he will less endure that, which is against reli-
gion. And, therefore, if a common man must not
«erve at the altar, how shall he abide a wicked man
to stand there ? No : he w ill not endure him, but he
will cast him and his prayer into the separation of an
infinite and eternal distance. Sic profanatis sacris
peritura Troja perdidit primnm Decs ; so 7 roy entered
into ruin when their prayers became unholy, and they
profaned the rights of their religion.

2. A wicked peison, while he remains in that con-
dition, is not the natural object of pity : •>.!(!? ta-Ti Kwry^ i? «t/
«?a|/a!c »-/.ta.7r«6cyvT/, Said Zcwo ; mercy is a sorrow or a trou-
ble at that misery which falls npon a person which deserv-

Serm. IV. the keturn of PRArERs. 77

ed it not. And so Aristotle defines it, it is >mv>i w m
T«i TTowga Tw xm^iou ruyx*^"^'' whcTi wc SBC the peisou desBTves a
better fortune., oi is disposed to a fairer entreaty, then
we naturallj pity him : and Sinon pleaded for pity
to the Trojans^ saying, ^
Miserere anirai non digna ferentis.*

For who pitieth the fears of a base man who hath
treacherously murthered his friend ? or who will lend
a friendly sigh, when he sees a traitor to his country
pass forth through the execrable gates of cities ? and
when any circumstance of baseness, that is, any thing
that takes off the excuse of infirmity, does accompany
a sin, (such as are ingratitude, perjury, perseverance,
dclio'ht, malice, treachery,)then every man scorns the
criminal., and God delights and rejoices in, and laughs
at the calamity of such a person. When Viiellius,
with his hands bound behind him, his imperial robe
rent, and with a dejected countenance and an ill name,
was led to execution, every man cursed him, but no
man wept. Deformitas exitus misericordiarn abstide-
rat., saith Tacitus ; the filthiness of his life and death
took away pity. So it is with us in our prayers ;
wdiile we love our sin, we must nurse all its children j
and when we roar in our lustful beds, and groan with
the whips of an exterminating angel, chastising those
v5ro),a«rT5/ouc iTri^u/xnt^, (as Arctas calls them,) the lusts of
the lower belly, wantonness., and its mother intempe-
rance., we feel the price of our sin, that which God
foretold to be their issues, that which he threatened
us withal, and that which is the natural consequent,
and its certain expectation, that which we delighted
in, and chose, even then when we refused God, and
tJirew away felicity, and hated virtue. For punish-

* Have raercy, mercy on a guiltless foe !

Pitt.

78 THE RETURN OF PRATERS. Serm. IV.

ment Is but the latter part of sin ; it is not a new thing
and distinct from it: or if we will kiss the hyaena^ or
clip the lamia about the neck, we have as certainly
chosen the tail, and its venomous embraces, as the
face and lip. Every man that sins against God and
loves it, or, which is all one, continues in it, for by
interpretation that is love, hath all the circumstances
of nnworthiness towards God ; he is unthankful, and
a breaker of his vows, and a despiser of his mercies,
and impudent ao-ainst his judgments, he is false to his
profession, false to his faith, he is an unfriendly per-
son, and useth him barbarously, who hath treated
him with an a(fection not less than infinite ; and if any
man docs half so much evil, and so unhandsomely to
a man, we stone him with stones and curses, with re-
proach, and an unrelenting scorn. And how then shall
such a person hope that God should pity him ? For
God better understands, and deeper resents, and more
essentially hates, and more severely exacts the cir-
cumstances and degrees of baseness, than we can do ;
and therefore proportionably scorns the person and
derides the calamity. Is not unthankfulness to God a
greater baseness and unworthiness than unthankful-
ness to our patron? and is not he as sensible of it and
more than we ? These things are more than words ; and
therefore if no man pities a base person, let us re-
member, that no man is so base in any thing, as in his
unhandsome demeanour towards God. Do we not
profess ourselves his servants, and yet serve the
devil ? Do we not live upon God's provision, and yet
stand or work at the command of lust or avarice, hu-
man regards and little interests of the world } We
call him Father when we desiie our portion, and yet
spend it in the society of all his enemies. In short :
let our actions to God and their circumstances be sup-
posed to be done towards men, and we should scorn
ourselves ; and how then can we expect God should

Serm. IV. the return of prayers. 79

not scorn us, and reject our prayer, when we liave
done ail the dishonour to him and with all the un-
handsomeness in the world ? Take heed lest we fail
into a condition of evil, in which it shall be said, you
may thank yourselves ; and be iniinitely afraid lest at
the same time we be in a condition of person, in
wliich God will upbraid our unworthiness, and scorn
our persons, and rejoice in our calamity. The first is
intolerable, the second is irremediable ; the first pro-
claims our folly, the second declares God's final jus-
tice ; in the first there is no comfort, in the latter
tliere is no remedy ; that therefore makes us misera-
ble, and this renders us desperate.

3. This great truth is further manifested by the
necessary and convenient appendages of prayer, re-
quired, or advised, or recommended in holy scripture.
For why is fasting prescribed together with prayer .f*
For neither if we eat, are we the better, neither if we
eat not, are we the worse ; and God does not delight
in that service, the first, second, and third part of
which is nothing but pain and self-affliction. But
therefore fasting is useful with prayer, because it is
a penal duty, and an action of repentance ; for then
only God hears sinners, when they enter first into the
gates of repentance, and proceed in all the regions
of sorrow and carefulness; therefore we are com-
manded to fast, that we may pray with more spiri-
tuality, and with repentance ; that is, without the
loads of meat, and witliout the loads of sin. Of the
same consideration it is that alms are prescribed to-
gether with prayer, because it is a part of that chan-
ty, without which our souls are enemies to all that
which ought to be equally valued with our own lives.
But besides this, we may easily observe what special
indecencies there are, which, besides the general ma-
lignity and demerit, are special deleteries and hinder-

80 THE RETURN OF rRATERS. Scrm. IV.

ances to our prajcr, by irrcconciling the person of
him that prays.

1. The fiist is unniercirulncss. ouTti^UfM ^(Moy, wt* »|
mN^fttntm ^va-i^c apa/ffTMv tsv i/tcr. Said oiic ill Slobaciis^ aiicl they
were well joined together. He that takes mercy from
a man is like him that takes an altar from the temple ;
the teinple is of no use without an altar, and the
man cannot pray without mercy ; and there are infi-
nite of prayers sent fortli by men which God never
attends to, but as to so many sins, because the men
live in a course of rapine, or tyranny, or op})ression,
or uncharitableness, or sometlii.iir that is most con-
trary to God, because it is unmerciful. Remember,
that God sometimes puts thee into some images of his
own relation. We beg of God for mercy, and our
brother begs of us for pity : and therefore let us deal
equally with God and all the world. I see myself
fall by a too frequent infirmity, and still I beg for par-
don, and hope for pity : thy brother that otfends thee,
he hopes so too, and would fain have the same mea-
sure, and would be as glad thou wouldst pardon him
as thou wouldst rejoice in thy ow n forgiveness. I am
troubled when God rejects my prayer, or, instead of
hearing my petition, sends a judgment: is not thy
tenant, or thy servant, or thy client, so to thee ? does
not he tremble at thy frown, and is of an uncertain
soul till thou speakest kindly unto him, and observes
thy looks as he watches the colour of the bean com-
ing from the box of sentence, life or death depending
on it ? VVlien he begs of thee for mercy, his passion is
greater, his necessities more pungent, his apprehen-
sion more brisk and sensitive, his case dressed with
the circumstance of pity, and thou thyself canst bet-
ter feel his condition than tiiou dost usually perceive
the earnestness of thy own prayers to God ; and if
thou regardest not thy brotiier whom thou seest,
whose case thou feelest, whose circumstances can af-

Serm. IV. the return of praters. 81

flict thee, whose passion is dressed to thy fancy, and
proportioned to thy capacity, liow sliall God regard
thy distant praver, or be melted with thy cold desire,
or softened with thy dry story, or moved by thy un-
repentino; soul ? If I be sad, I seek for comfort, and
go to God and to the ministry of his creatures for it;
and is it not just in God to stop his own fountains,
and seal the cisterns and little emanations of the crea-
tures from thee, who shuttest thy hand, and shuttest
thy eye, and twistest thy bowels against thy brother,
who would as fain be comforted as thou ? It is a
strange iliacal passion that so hardens a man's bow-
els, that nothing proceeds from him but the name of
his own disease ; a miserere niei Deus^ a prayer to
God for pity upon him that will not show pity to
others. We are troubled when God through severity
breaks our bones, and hardens his face against us ;
but we think our poor brother is made of iron, and
not oftieshand blood; as we are. God hath bound
mercy upon us by the iron bands of necessity; and
though God's mercy is the measure of his justice, yet
justice is the measure of our mercy ; and as we do to
others, it shall be done to us, even in the matter of
pardon and of bounty, of gentleness and remission, of
bearing each other's burdens, and fair interpretation ;
Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that tres-
pass against us, so we pray. The final sentence in
this affair is recorded by St. James, He that shows no
mercy shall have justice without mercy :* as thy poor
brother hath groaned under thy cruelty and ungentle
nature without remedy; so shalt thou before the
throne of God ; thou shalt pray, and plead, and call
and cry, and beg again, and in the midst of thy de-
spairing noises be carried into the regions of sorrow,

* James ii. 13.

VOL. 1. 12

S2 FUE RETURiv OK rRATERs. !^erm. IV.

which never did and never shall feel a mercy. God
never can hear the prayers of an vnniercifi I man.

2. Lust and uncleanness are a direct enemy to the
prayin.o; man, an obstniclion to his prayers ; for this
IS not only a profanation, but a direct sacrilege ; it
defiles a temple to the <rround ; it takes from a man
all affection to spiritual things, and mingles his very
soul with the things of the world ; it makes his un-
derstanding low, and his reasonings cheap and fool-
ish, and it destroys his confidence, and all his man-
ly hopes ; it makes his spirit light, elfeminalc laid
fantastick, and dissolves his attention, and makes
his mind so to disalfect all the objects of his desires
that when he prays he is as uneasy as an im; a-
led person, or a condemned criminal upon the hook
or wheel; and it hath in it this evil quality, that
a lustful person cannot pray heartily against his
sin, he cannot desire his cure, for his will is con-
tradictory to his collect, and he would not that
God should hear the words of his prayer, which he,
poor man, never intended. For no crime so seizes
upon the will as that ; some sins steal an affection,
or obey a temptation, or secure an interest, or work
by the way of understandmg, but lust seizes di-
rectly upon the will, for the devil knows well that
the lusts of the body are soon cured; the uneasi-
ness that dwells there is a disease very tolerable, and
every degree of patience can pass under it. But
therefore the devil seizes upon the will, and that is
it that makes adulteries and all the species of unclean-
ness ; and lust grows so hard a cure, because the
formality of it is, that it will not be cured ; the will
loves it, and so long as it does, God cannot love the
man; for God is the Prince of purities, and the Son
of God is the King of virgins, and the Holy Spirit is
all love, and that is all purity and all sp riluality : and
therefore the prayer of an adulterer, or an unclean

^erm. IV. the return of prayers. 8S

person, is like the sacrifices to Moloch or the rites of
Flora., ubi Cato spectator esse noti potrdt. A good man
will not endure them, much less will God entertain
such reekino-s of the Dead sea and clouds of Sodom.
For so an impure vapour begotten of the slime of the
earth, by the fevers and adulterous hearts of an in-
temperate summer sun, striving by the ladder of a
mountain to climb up to heaven, and rolling into va-
rious figures by an uneasy, unfixed revolution, and
stopped at the middle region of the air, being thrown
from his pride and attempt of passing towards the
seat of the stars, turns into an unwholesome flame,
and, like the breath of hell, is confined into a prison
of darkness, and a cloud, till it breaks into diseases,
plaguos and mildews, stink and blastings : so is the
prayer of an unchaste person, it strives to climb. the
battlements of heaven, but because it is a flame of
suhhur., salt, and bitmnen, and was kindled in the dis-
honourable regions below, derived from hell, and con-
trary to God, it cannot pass forth to the element of
love, but ends in barrenness and murmur, fantastick
expectations, and trilling imaginative confidences, and
they at last end in sorrows and despair. Every state of
sin is against the possibility of a man's being accepted ;
but these have a proper venom against the graciousness
of the person, and the power of the prayer. God
can never accept an unholy prayer, and a Avicked
man can never send forth any other ; the waters pass
through impure aqueducts and channels of brimstone,
and therefore may end in brimstone and fire, but never
in forgiveness, and the blessings of an eternal charity.
Henceforth, therefore, never any more wonder that
men pray so seldom; there are {ew that feel the
relish, and are enticed with the deliciousness, and
refreshed with the comforts, and instructed with the
sanctity, and acquainted with the secrets of a holy
prayer: but cease also to wonder, that of those few

S4 THR RETURN OF PRATERS. iSerm. IV.

that say many prayers, so few find any return of any
at all. To make up a o-ood and a lawful prayer,
there must be charity, with all its daughters, alms,
for<{{ve?icss. not ju(\'/m<r uncharitably; there must be
purity of spirit : that is, purity of intention; and
there must be purity of the body and soul ; that is,
the cleanness of chastity; and there must be no vice
remaining, no affection to sin : for he that brings
his body to God, and hath left his will in the power
of any sin, offers to God the calves of his lips, hut
not a whole burnt-offering; a lame oblation, but not
a reasonable sacrifice ; and therefore their portion
shall be amongst them whose prayers were never
recorded in the book of life, whose tears God never
put into his bottle, whose desires shall remain inef-
fectual to eternal ages. Take heed you do not lose
your prayers ; for by thejn ye hope to have eternal life ;
and let any of you whose conscience is most religious
and tender, consider what condition that man is in,
that hath not said his prayers in thirty or forty
years together; and that is the true state of him
who hath lived so long in the course of an unsanc-
tified life; in all that while he never said one prayer
that did him any good ; but they ought to be
reckoned to him upon the account of his sms.
He that Is in the affection^ or in the habit, or in the
state of any one sin whatsoever, is at such distance
from and contrariety to God, that he provokes God
to anger in every prayer he makes : and then add
but this consideration, that prayer is the great sum of
our religion, it is the effect., and the exercise, and the
b€i{inning, and the y?/'o??io/^r o/'a// graces, and the co?i-
summation Siud perfection of many ; and all those per-
sons who pretend towards heaven, and yet are not
experienced in the secrets of religion, they reckon
their piety and account their hopes only upon the
Stock of a few prayers. It may be they praj

Serm. V» the return of prayers. 85

twice every clay, it may be thrice, and blessed be
God for it ; so far is very well : but if it shall be re-
membered and considered, that this course of piety
is so far from warranting any one course of sin, that
any one habitual and cherished sin destroys the effect
of all that piety, we shall see there is reason to ac-
count this to be one of those great arguments with
which God hath so bound the duty of holy living
upon us, that without a holy life Ave cannot in any
sense be happy, or have the elfect of one prayer.
But if we be returning and repenting sinners^ God de-
lights to hear, because he delights to save us :

Si precibus, dixerunt, numina justis

Victa remollescunt *

When a man is holy, then God is gracious, and a
holy life is the best, and it is a continual prayer ; and
repentance is the best argument to move God to
mercy, because it is the instrument to unite our pray^f
ers to the intercession of the holy Jesus,

SERMON V.

PART II.

After these evidences of scripture, and reason
derived from its analogy, there will be less necessity
to take any particular notices of those Httie objec-
tions which are usually made from the experience of
the success and prosperities of evil persons. For

* The Gods still listen to the pious prayer.

86 THE RETURN OF PRATERS. Serttl. V.

true it is, there is in the world a generation of men
that pray long and loud, and ask for vile things, such
which they ought to fear, and pray against, and yet
they are heard ; The fat upon earth eat and wor-
ship :* but if these men aek things hurtful and sinful,
it is certain God hears them not in mercy ; they
pray to God as despairing Savl did to his armour-
bearer, Sta super me et interjice me. Stand vpon me
and kill me ; and he that obeyed his voice did him
dishonour, and sinned against the head of his king,
and his own life. And the vicious persons, of old,
prayed to Laverna,

Pulchra Laverna,

Da milii faliere, da jiistum sanctiimqiie videri,
Noctem peccalis et fraudibus objice iiubcm. f

Give me a prosperous robbery, a rich prey, and
secret escape, let me become rich with thieving and
still be accounted holy. For every sort of man hath
some religion or other, by the measures of which they
proportion their lives and their prayers ; now as the
holy spirit of Go8, teaching us to pray, makes us like
himself in order to a holy and an eflective prayer;
and no man prays well, but he that prays by the
spirit of God, the spirit of holiness^ and he that prays
with the spirit must be made like to the spirit, he is
first sanctiiied and made holy, and then made fervent,
and then his prayer ascends beyond the clouds ; first
he is renewed in the spirit of his mind, and then he is

* Psalm xxii. 29.

■\ Beauteous Laverna I my petition hear ;
Let me with truth and sanctity appear :
O! give inc to deceive, and with a veil
Of darkness and of night my crimes conceal.

FBANCn.

Serm. V. thb return of praters. 87

inflamed with holy fires, and guided by a bright star,
first purified and then lightened, then burning and
shining: so is every man in every of his prayers; he
is always like the spirit by which he prays ; if he be
a lustful person, he prays with a lustful spirit ; if he
does not pray for it, he cannot heartily pray against
it: if he be a tyrant or an usurper, a robber, or a
murderer, he hath his Laverna too, by which all his
desires are guided, and his prayers directed, and his
petitions furnished : he cannot pray against that
spirit, that possesses him, and hath seized upon his
will and affections: If he be filled with a lying spirit,
and be conformed to it in the image of his mind, he
will be so also in the expressions of his prayer and
tlie sense of his soul. Since, therefore, no prayer can
be good but that which is taught by the spirit of
grace, none holy but the man whom God's spirit hath
sanctified, and therefore none heard to any purposes
of blessing, which the Holy Ghost does not make
for us, (for he makes intercession for the saints ; the
spirit of Christ is the praecentor^ or 4Jhe rector chori,
the master of the choir,) it follows that all other
prayers being made with an evil spirit must have an
evil portion ; and though the devils by their oracles
have given some answers, and by their significations
have foretold some future contingencies, and in their
government and subordinate rule have assisted some
armies, and discovered some treasures and prevented
some snares of chance, and accidents of men ; yet no
man, that reckons by the measures of reason or reli-
gion, reckons witches and conjurors amongst blessed
and prosperous persons : these and all other evil
persons have an evil spirit, by the measures of which
dieir desires begin and proceed on to issue ; but this
success of theirs neither comes from God, nor brings
felicity : but if it comes from God it is anger, if it de-
scends upon good men it is a curse, if upon evil men

88 THE UETURN OF PRAYERS. »S'crW. V.

it is a sin, and then It Is a present curse, and leads on to
anetei-nal inil;licity. Plutarch reports, that the Tyrians
tied their gods witli chains, because certain persons
did dream, that .>^])ollo said, he would leave their city,
and go to the party o{ jllcxandcr^ who then besieged
the town: z.nA Jipollodorus tells of some that tied the
image of Saturn witli bands of wool upon his feet.
So some Christians; they think God is tied to
their Sv^ct, and bound to be of their side and the inte-
rest of their opinion ; and they think he can never go
to the enemy's party, so long as they charm him
with pertain forms of vv^ords or disguises of tlieir
own ; and then all the success they have, and all
the evils that are prosperous, all the mischiefs they
do, and all the ambitious designs that do suc-
ceed, they reckon upon the account of their prayers;
and well they may ; for their prayers are sins, and
their desires are evil ; they w^ish mischief, and they
act iniquity, and they enjoy their sin : and if this
be a blessing or a cursing, themselves shall then
judge, and all the world shall perceive, when the
accounts of all the world arc truly stated ; then
when prosperity shall be called to accounts, and
adversity shall receive its comforts, when virtue
shall have a crown, and the satisfaction of all sinful
desire shall be recompensed with an intolerable sor-
row and the despair of a perishing soul. Nero's
mother prayed passionately, that her son might
be emperour; and many persons, of whom St.
James speaks, pray to spend upon their lusts, and they
are heard too : some were not, and very many are :
and some that fight against a just possessor of a coun-
try, pray that their wars may be prosperous ; and
sometimes they have been heard too: and Julian the
,/lpostatc prayed, and sacrificed, and inquired of de-
mons, and burned man's flesh, and oj^erated with se-
cret rites, and all that he might craftily and power-

Se-rm. V. the return of fravers. 89

fuljy oppose the religion of Christ, and he was heard
too, and did mischief bejond tiic malice and the ef-
fect of his piedecessors, that did swim in Christian
blood ; but when we sum up the accounts at the foot
of their hves, or so soon as the thing was understood,
and find that the eifect of Agrippina's prayer was,
that her son murdered her; and of those lustful pe-
titioners, in St. James., that they were given over to
the tyranny and possession of their passions, and
baser appetites ; and the eifect of Julian the apos-
tate's prayer was, that he lived and died a professed
enemy of Christ ; and the effect of the prayers of
usurpers is, that they do mischief, and reap curses,
and undo mankind, and provoke God, and live hated
and die uiiserable, and shall possess the fruit of their
siii to eternal ages ; these will be no objections to the
tralh of the former discourse, but greater instances,
that if hy hearing our prayers we mean or intend a
blessing, we must also, by making prayers., mean that
thk man first be holy and his desires just and charitable^
before he can be admitted to the throne of grace, or
converse with God by the intercourses of a prospe-
rous prayer.

That is the first general. 2. Many times good
men pray, and their prayer is not a sin, but yet it re-
turns empty ; because although the man be, yet the
prayer is not in proper disposition; and here I am to
account to you concerning the collateral and acciden-
tal hinderances of tiie prayer of a good man.

The first thing that hinders the prayer of a good
man from obtaining its effects, is a violent an^-er, and
a violent storm in the spirit of him that prays. For
anger sets the house on fire, and all the spirits are
busy upon trouble, and intend propulsion, defence,
displeasure, or revenge ; it is a short madness, and
an eternal enemy to discourse, and sober counsels,
and fair conversation; it intends its own object with

VOL. I. 13

90 THE RETURN OF PRAYERS. i^CrHl. V.

all the earnestness of perception, or activity of design,
and a quicker motion of a too warm and distempeied
blood ; it is a fever in the heart, and a calenture in
the head, and a fire in the fare, and a sword in the
hand, and a fury all over ; and therefore can never
suifer a man to be in a disposition to pray. For
prayer is an action and a state of intercourse, and
desire, exactly contrary to this character of anger.
Prayer is an action of hkeness to the Holy Giiost,
the spirit of gentleness and dove-like simplicity; an
imitation of the holy Jesus, Avhose spirit is meek up
to tlie greatness of tlie biggest example, and a con-
formity to God, whose anger is ahvays just, and
marches slowly, and is without transportation, and
often hindered, and never hasty, and is fiill of mer-
cy : prayer is the peace of our spirit, the stillness of
our thoughts, the evenness of recollection, the seat
of meditation, the rest of our cares, and the calm of
our tempest ; prayer is the issue of a quiet mind, of
untroubled thoughts, it is the daughter of charity,
and the sister of meekness ; and he that prays to
God with an angry, that is with a troubled and dis-
composed spirit, is like him that retires into a battle
to meditate, and sets up his closet in the out quar-
ters of an army, and chooses a frontier garrison to
be wise in. Anger is a perfect alienation of the
mind from prayer, and therefore is contrary to that
attention, which presents our prayers in a right line
to God. For so have I seen a lark rising from his
bed of grass, and soaring upwards, singing as he
rises, and hopes to get to heaven, and climb above
the clouds ; but the poor bird was beaten back
with the loud sighings of an eastern w ind, and his
motion made irregular and inconstant, descending
more at every breath of the tempest, than it could
recover by the libration and fn quent weighing of
his wings ; till the little creature was forced to sit

Strm. V. THE RETURN OF PRAYERS. 91

down and pant, and stay till tlie storm was over,
and then it made a prosperous flight, and (hd rise
and sino- as if it had learned miisick and motion
from an angel, as he passed sometimes through the
air about his ministeries here below : so is the prayer
of a good man; when his affairs have required bu-
siness, and his business was matter of discipline, and
his discipline was to pass upon a sinning person, or
had a design of charity, his duty met with the infirmi-
ties of a man, and anger was its instrument, and the
instrument became stronger than the prime agent, and
raised a tempest and overruled the man -, and then
his prayer was broken, and his thoughts were trou-
bled, and his words went up towards a cloud, and
his thoughts pulled them back again, and made them
without intention ; and the good man sighs for his
intirmity, but must be content to lose the prayer, and
he must recover it, when his anger is removed, and
his spirit is becalmed, made evcR as the brow of
Jesus^ and smooth like the heart of God ; and then it
ascends to heaven upon the wings of the holy dove,
and dwells with God, till it returns like the useful
bee, loaden with a blessing and the dew of heaven.

But besides this ; anger is a combination of many
other things, every one of which is an enemy to
prayer ; it is >^i>^«, and ofiii^, and ./^ag/s, and it is ^s«^f, and
it is «6go«c. and it is xoxao-zc, and iTr^TifAMK, so it is in the
several definitions of it, and in its natural constitu-
tion. It hath in it the trouble of sorrow^ and the
heats oilust^ and the disease oi revenge^ and the boil-
ings of a ycuer, and the rashness of prcnjozVcc'Wiy, and
the disturbance of persecution ; and therefore is a
certain effective enemy against prayer ; which ought
to be a spiritual joy, and an act of mortification;
and to have in it no heats but of charity and zeal ;
and they are to be guided by prudence and consid-
eration, and allayed with the deliciousness of mercy.

92 THE RRTUUN OF PRAYERS. Sevm. V.

and the serenity of a meek and a quiet R|)ii it ; and
therefore St. Paul gave caution, that /he snn should
not go down upon our anger ; meaning, that it should
not stay upon its till evening prayer ; for it would liin-
der our evoninr>; sacrifice; but the stopping of the
first egressions of anger is a certain ai tifice of the
spirit of God to prevent unmercifulness, which turns
not only our desires into vanity, but our piayers into
sin ; and remember that Klishu\s anjrer, though it
was also zeal, had so discomposed his spirit, when
the two kings came to inquire of the Lord, that
though he was a good man and a piophet, yet he
could not prajs he could 7iot inquire of the Lord, till by
rest and musick he had o;atl;eicd himself into the
evenness of a dispassionate and recollected mind ;
therefore let your prayers be without wrath. BwxiT<u

f/a-TJftrsivTSC, fxyi^iv atfticeiTTii/nx X TruBo; i:T;?5|5J--9-ju th 4"^"' " lOr VJOd DV

many significations hath tau<^ht us, that Avhen men
go to the altars to pray or give thanks, they must
bring no sin, or violent passion along with them to
the sacrifice," said Philo.

2. hidifferency and easiness of desire is a great
enemy to the success of a good man's prayer;
when Plato gave Diogenes a great vessel of wine,
who asked but a litlle, and a few carraways; the
Cynick thanked him with his rude expression ; Cum
interrogaris, quot sint duo ct duo, respondes viginti ;
ita non secundum ea, quae rogaris, das, ncc ad ca, quae
int€rrou;aris, respondes: " Thou neither answercst to
the question thou art asked, nor givest according
as thou art desired ; being in(|uired of, how many
are two and two, thou answerest, twenty." So it is
with God and us in the intercourse of our prayers :
we pray for health, and he gives us, it may be, a
sickness that carries us to eternal life; we pray for
necessary support for our persons and families, an<^

Serm. V. the returx of prayers. 93

he gives us more than we need : we beg for a remo-
val of a present sadness, and he gives us that which
makes us able to bear twenty sadnesses, a cheerful
spirit, a peaceful conscience, and a joy in God, as an
antepast of eternal rejoicino;s in the kingdom of God.
But then although God doth very frequently give us
beyond the matter of our desires, yet he does not so
often give us great things beyond the spirit of our
desires, beyond the quickness, vivacity, and fervour
of our minds ; for there is but one thing in the world
that God hates besides sin, that is, indiferency and
lukewarmness ;* which although it hath not in it the
direct nature of sin, yet it hath this testimony from
God, that it is loathsome and abominable ; and ex-
cepting this thing alone, God never said so of any
thing in the New Testament, but what was a direct
breach of a commandment ; the reason of it is, be-
cause lukewarmness or an indifferent spirit is an under-
valuing of God and of religion ; it is a separation of
reason from affections, and a perfect conviction of the
understanding to the goodness of a duty, but a re-
fusinof to follow what we understand. For he that
IS lukewarm alway, understands the better way, and
seldom pursues it; he hath so much reason as is
su/licient, but he will not obey it; his will does not
follow the dictate of his understanding, and there-
fore it is unnatural. It is like the fantastick fires
of the night, where there is light and no heat, and
therefore may pass on to the real fires of hell, where
there is heat and no light ; and, therefore, although
an act of lukewarmness is only an indecency, and no
sin ; yet a state of lukewarmness is criminal, and a
sinful state of imperfection and Indecency ; an act of
indifferency hinders a single prayer from being ac-
cepted ; but a state of it makes the person ungra-

* Sec. 2, sermon of lukewarmness and zeal.

94 THE RETBRN OF PRATERS. Scrm. V.

cious and despised in the court of heaven: and
therefore, St. James in his accounts concerning an
elfcctive prayer, not only requires, tliat he be a just
man, who prays, but liis prayer must he fervent ;
Jixa-K Smcuov r.-f^yov/LLivx, ufi cffcctuul J evvcnt prayer., so our Eng-
hsh reads it; it must be an intent, zealous, busy,
operative prayer; for consider vihat a liuge indecen-
cy it is, that a man should speak to God for a thing,
that he vahies not; or that he should not value a
thing, without which he cannot be happy ; or that he
should spend his religion upon a tritie ; and if it be
not a trille, that he should not spend his affections
upon it. If our prayers be for temporal things, I
shall not need to stir up your aifections to be pas-
sionate for their purchase ; we desire them greedily,
we run after them intcmperately, we are kept from
them with huge impatience, we are delayed with in-
finite regrets; we prefer them before our duty, we
ask them unseasonably; we receive them with our
own prejudice, and we care not; we choose them to
our hurt and hinderance, and ^ci delight in the pur-
chase ; and when we do pray for them, we can hard-
ly bring ourselves to it, to submit to God's will, but
will have them, (if we can,) wdiether he be pleased
or no ; like the parasite in the comedy, qui comedit
quod fidt et quod no)ifuit, he ate all and more than
all, what was set before him, and what was kept
from him. But then for spiritual things, for the
interest of our souls, and the alfairs of the king-
dom, we pray to God with just such a zeal, as a
man bejrs of a chirur<^eon to cut him of the stone ;
or a condemned man desires his executioner quickly
to put him out of his pain, by taking away his life;
when things are come to that pass, it must be done,
but God knows with what little complacency and
desire the man makes his request : and yet the
things of religion and the spirit, are the only things

Serm. V. the reI'drx op prayers. 95

that ought to be desired vehemently, and pursued
passionately, because God hath set such a value uj>on
them, hat they are the etiects of his greatest loving
kindness ; they are the purchases of Christ's blood,
and the etTect of his continual intercession, the fiuits
of his bloody sacrifice, and the gifts of his healing
and saving mercy, the graces of God's spirit, and the
only instruments of felicity ; and if we can have fond-
nesses for things indifferent or dangerous, our prayers
upbraid our spirits, when we beg coldly and tamely for
those thinf>:s for which we oujrht to die, which are
more precious than the globes of kings, and weightier
than imperial sceptres, richer than the spoils of the
sea, or the treasures of the Indian hills.

He that is cold and tame in his prayers, hath not
tasted of the deHciousness of rehgion, and the good-
ness of God ; he is a stranger to the secrets of the
kinofdom, and therefore he does not know what it is
either to have hunger or satiety ; and therefore
neither are they hungry for God, nor satisfied with
the world, but remain stupid and inapprehensive,
without resolution and determination, never choosing
clearly, nor pursuing earnestly ; and therefore, never
enter into possession, but always stand at the gate
of weariness, unnecessary caution, and perpetual ir-
resolution. But so it is too often in our prayers ; we
come to God, because it is civil so to do, and a gene-
ral custom, but neither drawn thither by love, nor
pinched by spiritual necessities, and pungent appre-
hensions ; we say so many prayers, because we are re-
solved so to do, and we pass through them, some-
times with a little attenllon, sometimes with none at all;
and can we think, that the grace of chastity can be ob-
tained at such a purchase, that grace that hath cost
more labours than all the persecutions of faith, and all
the dlsTutes of hope, and all the expense of charity
besides, amounts to ? Can we expect, that our sins

96 THK RKTURN Of PRAYERS. Sciin. V*

slioiild he washed by a lazy prayer ? Can an indiffe-
rent pravor qiicncli the flames of hell, or rescue us
from an eternal sorrow ? Is lust so soon overcome,
that the very naming it can master it? Is the devil so
slight andepsy an enemy, that he will ily away from
us at the first woi'd, spoken without power, and with-
out vehemence ? Read and attend to the accents of
the prayers of saints. / cried day and night before
thee, O Lord! my soul refused comfort ; my throat ts
dry with calling upon my God. my knees are weak through
fasting ; and, Let me alone^ says God to Moses ; and,
/ will not let thee go till thou hast blessed me, said
Jacob to the angel. And I shall tell you a short cha-
racter of a fervent prayer out of the practice of St.
Hieronie, in his Epistle ad Kustachium de custodia vir-
ginitatis. " Being destitute of all help, I threw my-
self down at the feet o{ Jesus ; I watered his feet with
tears, and wiped them with my hair, and morti-
fied the lust of my tlesh with the abstinence and hun-
gry diet of many weeks; I remember, that in ray
crying to God, I did frequently join the night and
the day ; and never did intermit to call, nor cease
from beating my breast, till the mercy of the Lord
brought to me peace and freedom from temptation.
After many tears, and my eyes fixed in heaven, I
thought myself sometimes encircled with troops of
angels, and then at last I sang to God, We will run af-
ter thee into the smell and deliciousness of thy precious
ointments :'''' such a prayer as this will never return
without its errand. But though your person be as gra-
cious as David or Job, and your desire as holy as the
love of angels, and your necessities great as a new peni-
tent, yet it pierces not the clouds, unless it be also as
loud as thunder, passionate as the cries of women, and
clamorous as necessity. And we may guess at the de-
grees of importunity by the insinuation of the apos-
tle : let the married abstain for a time, ut vacent oralioni

Serm. V. the return of praters. 9f

etjejimio, that tliei/ may attend to prayer : It is a great
atieiidaiice, aiid a long diligence, that is promoted
bj such a separation ; and supposes a devotion, that
spends more than many hours : lor ordinary prayers,
and many hours of every day might well enough
consist with an ordinary cohabitation ; but that
which requires such a separation calls for a longer
time and a greater attendance, than we usually con-
sider. For every prayer we make, is considered by
God, and recorded in heaven ; but cold prayers are
not put into tne account in order to effect an accepta-
tion; but a: J laid aside like the buds of roses, which
a cold wind hath nipt into death, and the discoloured
tawny J ace of an Indian slave : and when in order to
youi' hopes of obtaining a great blessing, you reckon
up your prayers, with which you have solicited your
suit in the court of heaven, you must reckon, not by
the number of the collects, but by your sighs and
passions, by the vehemence of your desires, and the
fervour of your spirit, the apprehension of your need,
and the consequent prosecution of your supply.
Christ prayed n^-tuyxti j<r;t''g*'f> '^ith loud cryings^ and St.
Paul made mention of his scholars in his prayers
niglit and day. Fall upon your knees and grow
there ; and let not your desires cool, nor your zeal
remit, but renew it again and again; and let not your
Cilices and the custom of praying put thee in mind of
thy need, but let thy need draw thee to thy holy
offices : and remember, how great a God^ how glo-
rious a majesty you speak to, therefore let not your
devotions and "addresses be little. Remember how
great a need thou hast ; let not your desires be less.
Remember, hozv great the thing is you pray for ;
do not undervalue it with thy indiffcrency. Re-
member, that prayer is an act of religion ; let it
therefore be made thy business : and, lastly, re-
member, that God hates a cold prayer, and there-

TOL. I, 14

98 THE RETURN OF PRATERS. Scrm. V.

fore will never bless it, but it shall be always In-
effectual.

3. Under this title of lukewarmness and tepidity,
may be comprised also these cautions : that a good
man's prayers are sometimes hindered by inadverten-
cy^ sometimes by luant of perseverance. For inad-
vertency, or Avant of attendance to the sense and
intention of our prayers, it is certainly an elfect of
lukewarmness, and a certain companion and appen-
dage to human infirmity ; and is oiily so remedied, as
our prayers are made zealous, and our inhrmities
pass into the strengths of the spirit. But if we
were quick in our perceptions, either concerning our
danger, or our need, or the excellency of the object,
or the glories of God, or the niceties and perfections
of religion, we should not dare to thiou a^^ay our
prayers so like fools, or come to God and say a
prayer with our mind standing at distance, trilling like
untaught boys at their books, with a truantly spirit.
I shall say no more to this, but that, in reason, we
can never hope, that God in heaven will hear our
prayers, which we ourselves speak, and yet hear not
at the same time, when we ourselves speak them
\\\i\\ instruments joined to our ears; even with those
organs, which are parts of our hearing faculties. If
they be not worth our own attending to, they are
not worth God's hearing; if they are worth God's
attending to, we must nrake them so by our own zeal,
and passion, and industry, and observation, and a
present and a holy spirit.

But concerning perseverance^ the consideration i»
something distinct. For when our prayer is for a
great matter, and a great necessity, strictly attended
to, yet we pursue it only by chance or humour, bj
the strengths of fancy, and natural di8})osition ; or
else our cJioice is cool as soon as hot, like the emis-
sions of lij^htning: or, like a sun-beam, often inler-
rupted with a cloud, or cooled with intervening

Serm. V. the return of prayers. 99

showers : and our prayer is without fruit, because
the desire lasts not; and the prayer lives like the
repentance of Simon Magus, or the trembling oi
Felix, or the Jews'* devotion for seven days of unlea-
vened bread, during the passover, or the feast of
tabernacles ; but if we would secure the blessing
of our prayers, and the effect of our prayers, we
must never leave till we have obtained what we
need.

There are many that pray against a temptation
for a month together, and so long as the prayer is
fervent, so long the man hath a nolition, and a di-
rect enmity against the lust; he consents not all
that while ; but when the month is gone, and the
prayer is removed, or become less active, then the
temptation returns, and forrages, and prevails, and
seizes upon all our unguarded strengths. There are
some desires, which have a period, and God's visi-
tations expire in mercy at the revolution of a cer-
tain number of days; and our prayer must dwell so
Ions: as God's an^j-er abides ; and in all the storm
"we must outcry the noise of the tempest, and the
voices of that thunder. But if we become hardened,
and by custom and cohabitation with the danger
lose our fears, and abate of our desires and devo-
tions ; many times we shall find, that God by a
sudden breach upon us will chastise us for letting
our hands go down. Israel prevailed no longer
than Moses held up his hands in prayer ; and he
was forced to continue his prayer till the going
down of the sun ; that is, till the danger was over,
till the battle was done. But when our desires,
and prayers, are in the matter of spiritual danger,
they must never be remitted, because danger con-
tinues for ever, and therefore so must our watch-
fulness and our guards. Vult enim Dens rogari,
viilt cogii vult quadam importunitate vinci, (says St>

100 THE RETURN OF PRATERS. Semi. V.

Gregory ;) God loves to be invited^ entreated^ impor-
tuned with an unquiet, restless desire, and a perse-
vering prayer. Xgn oJ'iitKVTfJeti w^ta-^iu t»c wfj* t» 9«ov ^gtxrKtut,

said Proclus. That is a lioly and a religious prayer,
that never gives over, but renews the prayer, and
dwells upon the desire ; for this only is efiectual.
txbuvoyTt /SgoTM «g*/Tvo< |U«)tagf,- Ts\«Scy«, God hears the perse-
vering man, and the unwearied piayer. For it is
very considerable, that we be veiy curious to ob-
serve, that many times a lust is sopita^ ?ion mortna^
it is asleep ; the enemy is at truce, and at quiet lor a
while, but not conquered, not dead : and if" we put
off our armour too soon, we lose all the benefit of
our former v\'ar, and are surj)riscd by indiligence
and a careless ffuard. For God sometimes binds
the devil in a short chain, and gives his servants
respite, that they may feel the short pleasures of a
peace, and the rest of innocence, and perceive what
are the eternal felicities of heaven, Avhere it shall be
so for ever; but then we must return to our war-
fare again; and every second assault is more trou-
blesome, because it finds our spirits at ease, and
witiiout watchfulness, and delighted with a spiri-
tual rest, and keeping holiday. But let us take
heed ; for whatsoever temptation we can be troubled
withal by our natural temper, or by the condition
of our Wie^ or the evil circumstances of our condi-
tion, so long as we have capacity to feel it, so long
we are in danger, and must ivatch thereunto uith
prayer and continual diligence. And when your
temptations let you alone, let not you God alone ;
but lay up prayers and the blessings of a constant
devotion against the day of trial. \\ ell may your
templaaon sleep; but if your prayers do so, you
may chance to be awakened with an assault, that may
ruin you. However, tlie rule is easy: whatsoever
you need, ask it of God so long as you want it, even

Serm. V. the return of praters. 101

till you have It. For God therefore many times de-
fers to grant, that thou mayest persevere to ask ; and
because esery holy prayer is a glorification of God,
by the confessing many of his attributes, a lasting and
a persevering prayer is a little image of the hallelu-
jahs and services of eternity ; it is a continuation to
do that, according to our measures, which we shall
be doino- to eternal a^es : therefore think not, that
five or six hearty prayers can secure to thee a great
blessing, and a supply of a mighty necessity. He that
prays so, and then leaves off, hath said some prayers,
and done the ordinary offices of his religion ; but hath
not secured the blessing, nor used means reasonably
proportionable to a mighty interest.

4. The prayers of a good man are oftentimes hin-
dered, and destitute of their effect, for want of pray-
ing in good company ; for sometimes an evil or an
obnoxious person hath so secured and ascertained a
mischief to himself, that he that stays in his com-
pany or his traffick, must also share in his punishment:
and the Tyrian sailors with all their vows and prayers
could not obtain a prosperous voyage, so long as
Jonas was within the bark ; for in this case the inte-
rest is divided, and the publick sin prevails above the
private piety. When the philosopher asked a penny
of Antigonus, he told him it was too little for a king
to give ; when he asked a talent, he told him it was
too much for a philosopher to receive ; for he did pur-
pose to cozen his own charity, and elude the other's
necessity, upon pretence of a double inequality. So
it is in the case of a good man mingled in evil compa-
ny : if a curse be too severe for a good man, a mercy
is not to be expected by evil company ; and his prayer,
when it is made in common, must partake of that
event of things which is appropriate to that society.
The purpose of this caution is, that every good
man be careful, that he do not mingle his devotion in

102 THE RETURN OF PRAYERS. Serm. V,

the communions of heretical persons, and in schis-
matical conventicles ; for although he be like them
that follow j^hsalom in the simplicity of their heart,
yet his intermedial fortune, and the event of his pre-
sent aifairs, may be the same with ^^Wom'5 ; and it
is not a light thing, that we curiously choose the par-
ties of our communion. I do not say it is necessary to
avoid all the society of evil persons ; for then lue must
go outof ihe wold ; and when we have thrown out a
drunkard, possibly we have entertained an hypocrite ;
or when a swearer is gone, an oppressor may stay
still ; or if that be remedied, yet pride is soon discerni-
ble, but not easily judicable; but tliat which is of
caution in this question, is, that we never mingle with
those, whose very combination is a sin ; such as were
Corah and his company, that rebelled against Moses
their prince; and Dathcm and Abirarru, that made a
schism in religion against Jlaron ihe priest : for so
said the Spirit of the Lord, Come out from the congrega-
tion of these men, lest ye perish in their company ; and all
those that were abused in their communion, ^\(\ perish
in the gainsaying of Corah. It is a sad thing to see
a good man cozened by fair pretences, and allured
into an evil snare ; for besides that he dwells in
danger, and cohabits with a dragon, and his virtue
may change by evil persuasion, into an evil disposi-
tion, from sweetness to bitterness, from thence to
evil speaking, from thence to believe a lie, and from
believing to practise it ; besides this, it is a very
great sadness, that such a man should lose all his
prayers to very many purposes. God will not re-
spect the offering of those men, who assemble by a
peevish spirit ; and therefore, although God in pity
regards the desires of a good man, if innocently
abused, yet as it unites in that assembly, God will
not hear it to any purposes of blessing, and lioliness;
unless we keep the unity of t/ie Spirit in the bond of

Serm. V. the return of prayers- 103

peace^ we cannot have the blessing of the Spirit in
the returns of a holy prayer; and all those assem-
blies, which meet together against God or God's or-
dinance, may pray and call, and cry loudly, and fre-
quently, and still they provoke God to anger ; and
many times he will not have so much mercy for them,
as to deny them ; but lets them prosper in their sin,
till it s we; Is to Intolerable and unpardonable. But
Avhen good men pray with one heart, and in a koly as-
sembly^ that is, holy in their desires^ lawful in their au-
thority^ though the persons be of diflferent com-
plexions, then the prayer flies up to God like the
hymns of a choir of angels ; for God that made body
and soul to be one man, and God and Man to be one
Christ, and three persons are one God, and his
praises are sung to him by choirs, and the persons
are joined in orders, and the orders into hierarchies,
and all, that God might be served by unions and com-
munities ; loves that his church should imitate the
concords of heaven, and the unions of God, and that
every good man should promote the interests of his
prayers, by joining in the communion of saints, in the
unions of obedience and charity, with the powers
that God and the laws have ordained.

The sum is this. If the man that makes the prayer
be an unholy person, his prayer is not the instrument
of a blessing, but a curse ; but when the sinner begins
to repent truly, then his desires begin to be holy.
But if they be holy, and just, and good, yet they are
without profit and elfect, if the prayer be made in
schism, or an evil communion, or if it be made without
attention, or if the man soon gives over, or if the
prayer be not zealous, or if the man be angry. There
are very many ways for a good man to become un-
blessed, and unthrivi ng in his prayers, and he cannot
be secure, unless he be In the state of grace, and his
spirit be quiet, and his mind be attentive, and his so-

104 THE RETURN OF PRAYERS. Semi. VI.

cietj be lawful, and his desires be earnest, and pas-
sionate, and his devotions persevering, lasting till his
needs be served or exchanged for another blessing :
so that, what Lellus [(ipud Cicer. de seneclute^ said
concerning old age, neque in summa inopia levis esse
senedus potest., ne sapienti quidcm., nee insipienti etiam
in summa copici non gravis ; that a wise man could not
bear old age., if it were extremely poor ; and yet if it
were very rich., it were intolerable to a fool ; we may
say concerning our prayers ; they are sins and unholy,
if a wicked man makes them ; and yet if they be
made by a good man, they are ineffective, unless they
be improved by their proper dispositions. A good
man cannot prevail in his prayers, if his desires be
cold, and his affections trilling, and his industry soon
weary, and his society criminal ; and if all these ap-
pendages of prayer be observed, yet they will do no
good to an evil man ; for his prayer, that begins in
sin, shall end in sorrow.

SERMON VL

PART III.

3. Next 1 am to inquire and consider what de-
grees and circumstances of piety are required to
make us ht to be intercessors for others, and to pray
for thorn with probable etfect ? 1 say with proba-
ble effect; for when the event principally depends
upon that which is not within our own election, such

Serm. VI. the return of prayers. 105

as are the lives and actions of others, all that we can
consider in this aifair is, whether we be persons fit to
pray in the behalf of others, that hinder not, but are
persons within the limit and possibilities of the pre-
sent mercy. When the Emperour .Maximinus was
smitten with the wrath of God, and a sore disease,
for his cruel pevsecu<^in[^ the Christian cause, and put-
ting so many thousand innocent and holy persons to
death, and he understood the voice of God and the
accents of thunder, and discerned that cruelty was
the cause, he revoked the decrees made against the
Christians, recalled them from their caves and deserts,
their sanctuaries and retirements, and enjoined them
to pray for the life and health of their prince. They
did so, and they who could command mountains to
remove and were obeyed, they who could do mira-
cles, they who with the key of prayer could open
God's four closets, of the womb and the grave^ of
providence and rain^ could not obtain for their bloody
Emperour one drop of mercy, but he must die misera-
ble for ever. God would not be entreated for him ;
and though he loved the prayer because he loved the
advocates, yet JMaximinus was not worthy to receive
the blessing. And it was threatened to the rebellious
people of IsraeU and by them to all people that should
sin grievously against the Lord, God would break
their staff of bread., and even the righteous should not
be prevailing intercessors ; though Noah, Job or Dan-
iel were there., they should deliver but their own sovls by
their righteousness., saith the Lord God :* and when
Abraham prevailed very far with God in the behalf
of Sodom., and the five cities of the plain, it had its
period. If there had been ten righteous in Sodom., it
should have been spared for their sakes ; but four
only were found, and they only delivered their own

*Ezek. xiv. 14.
VOL. I. 15

106 THE RETURN OF PRAYERS. Serm. VI.

souls too ; but neitlier their rit^htoousness, nor Mra-
hams prayer, prevailed any farther. And we have
this case also mentioned in the New Testament; Ifcmy
man see Ids brother sin a sin which is not unto death., he
shall ask., and he shall give him life for them that sin not
unto dmih* At his prayer the sinnei- shall receive
pardon ; God shall give him life for them, to him that
prays in their behalf that sin, provided it be not a si7i
unto death ; for there is a sin unto death, but I do not say
that he shall pray for it : there his commission expires,
and his power is confined : for there are some sins of
that state and greatness, that God Avill not pardon.
St. jiustin., in his books de Hiermone Domini in monte,
affirms it concerning some one single sin of a perfect
malice. It was also the opinion of Origen and J]tha-
nasius, and is followed by venerable Bede; and wheth-
er the Apostle means a peculiar state of sin, or some
one single great crime, which also supposes a prece-
dent and a present state of criminal condition ; it is
such a thing as will hinder our prayers from prevail-
ing in their behalf: we are therefore not encouraged
to pray, because they cannot receive the benefit of
Christ's intercession, and therefore much less of our
advocation, which only can prevail by virtue and par-
ticipation of his mediation. For whomsoever Christ
prays, for them We pray ; that is, for all them that are
within tlie covenant of repentance, for all whose ac-
tions have not destroyed the very being of religion,
who have not renounced their faith, nor voluntarily
quitted their hopes, nor openly opposed the spii it of
grace, nor grown by a long progress to a resolute and
final impiety, nor done injustices greater i\\m\ sorrow^
or restitution., or recompense, or acknowledgment. How-
ever, though it may be uncertain and disputed con-
cerning the number o( sins unto death; and therefore

* 1 JollD, T. 16.

Serm. VI. the return of pravers. 107

to praj, or not to pray, is not matter of duty, yet it
is all one as to the elfect, whether we know ihem or
no ; for though we intend charity, when we pray for
the worst of men, yet concerning the event God will
take care, and will certainly return thy prayer upon
thv own head, though thou didst desire it should v/a-
ter and refresh thy neighbour's dryness ; and *S7.
John so expresses it, as if he had left the matter ot
duty undetermined, because the instances are uncer-
tain ; yet the event is certainly none at all ; there-
fore because we are not encouraged to pray, and be-
cause it is a sin unto death ; that is, such a sin that
hath no portion in the promises of life, and the state
of repentance. But now, suppose the man, for whom
we pray, to be capable of mercy, within the covenant
of repentance, and not far from the kingdom of
heaven; yet,

1 . No prayers of others can farther prevail, than to
remove this person to the next stage in order to feli-
city. When St. Monica prayed for her son, she did
not pray to God to save him, but to convert him ; and
when God intended to reward the prayers and alms
of Cornelius^ he did not do it by giving him a crown,
but by sending an Apostle to him to make him a
Christian ; the meaning of which obseiTation is, that
we may understand, that as in the person prayed
for there ought to be the great disposition of being
in a saveable condition ; so there ought also to be all
the intermedial aptnesses : for just as he is disposed, so
can we prevail ; and the prayers of a good man first
prevail m behalf of a sinner, that he shall be invited,
that he shall be reproved, and then that he shall at-
tend to it, then that he shall have his heart opened,
and then that he shall repent : and still a good man's
prayers follow him through the several stages of
pardon, of sanctification, of restraining graces, of a
mighty Providence, of great assistance, of perseve-

lOJi THE RETURN OF PRATERS. Herm. VI.

ranee, and a holy death. No prayers can prevail up-
on an undisposed person. For the sun himself can-
not enlighten a blind eye, nor the soul move a body
whose silver cord is loosed, and whose joints are un-
tied by the rudeness and dissolutions of a pertina-
cious sickness. But then, suppose an eye quick, and
healthful, or apt to be refresncd with light and a
friendly prospect ; vet a glow-worm or a diamond;
the shells of pearl, or a dead man's candle, are not
enough to make him discern the beauties of the
woild, and to admire the glories of creation. There-
fore,

2. As the persons must be capable for whom we
pray, so they that pray for others must be persons
extraordinary in something. 1. If persons be of an
extraordinary piety, they are apt to be intercessors
for others. This appears in the case of Job* When
the Avrath of God was kindled against Eliphaz and
his two friends, God commanded them to ofier a
sacrifice, but my servant Job shall pray for yoti^ for
him will I accept : and it was so in the case of the
prevaricating Israelites ; God was full of indigna-
tion against them, and smote them, then stood vp
■J*h'mehas and prayed, and the plague ceased : for this
man was a good man, and the spirit of an extraor-
dinary zeal filled him, and he did glory to God in
the execution upon Zimri and his fair JMidianite.
And it was a huge blessing, that was entailed upon
the posterity of Jlbraham^ Isaac, and Jacob ; be-
cause they had a great religion, a great power with
God, and their extraordinary did consist especially
in the matter of prayers and devotion : for that
was eminent in them besides their obedience : for
so Mcdmonides ie\h concerning them, that Jibraham
first instituted morning prayer. The atl'airs of reli-
gion had not the same constitution then as now.

* Chap. xlii. 7, 8.

Serm. VI. the return of pravers. 109

They worshipped God never but at their memorials^
and in places^ and seldom times of separation. They
bowed their head when they came to a hallowed
stone, and upon the top of their staff, and worship-
ped when they came to a consecrated pillar, but this
was seldom ; and* they knew not the secrets and the
privileges of a frequent prayer, of intercourses with
God by ejaculations, and the advantages of importu-
nity : and the doctors of the Jews., that record the
prayer of JYoah., who in all reason knew the secret
best, because he was to teach it to all the world, yet
have transmitted to us but a short prayer of some
seven lines long ; and this he only said within the
ark, in that great danger, once on a day, provoked
by his fear, and stirred up by a religion then made
actual, in those days of sorrow and penance. But in
the descending ages, when God began to reckon a
church in Jlbraham''s family, there began to be a new
institution of offices, and Abraham appointed that
God should be prayed to every morning. Isaac
beinof tauofht bv Mraham., made a law, or at least
commended the practice, and adopted it into the
religion, that God should be worshipped by deci-
mation or tithing of our goods ; and he added an order
of prayer to be said in the afternoon ; and Jacob., to
make up the office complete, added evening prayer ;
and God was their God, and they became fit persons
to bless ; that is, of procuring blessings to their rela-
tives ; as appears in the instances of their own fami-
lies ; of the king of Egypt., and the cities of the plain.
For a man of an ordinary piety is like Gideon^s fleece,
wet in its own locks ; but it could not water a poor
man's garden. But so does a thirsty land drink all
the dew of heaven that wets its face, and a greater
shower makes no torrent, nor digs so much as a
little furrow, that the drills of the water might pass
into rivers, or refresh their neighbours' weariness;

110 THE RETURN OF PRAYERS. Sevm. VI.

but when the earth Is full, and hath no strange con-
sumptive needs, then at the next time, when God
blesses it with a gracious shower, it divides into
portions, and sends it abroad in fi'ee and equal com-
munications, that all that stand round about may
feel the shower. So is a good man's prayer; his
own cup is full, it is crowned with health, and over-
flows with blessings, and all that drink of his cup
and eat at his table, are refreshed with his joys, ana
divide with him in his holy portions. And indeed he
hath need of a great stock of piety, who is first to
provide for his own necessities, and then to give
portions to a numerous relation. It is a great matter,
that every man needs for himself; the daily expenses
of his own infirmities, the unthriving state of his
omission of duties, and recessions from perfection,
and sometimes the great losses and shipwrecks, the
plunderings and burning of his house, by a fall
into a deadly sin ; and most good men are in this
condition, that they have enough to do to live, and
keep themselves above water; but how few men
are able to pay their own debts, and lend great por-
tions to others? The number of those who can enec-
tually intercede for others to great purposes of
grace and pardon, are as soon told, as tiie number of
wise men, as the gates of a city, or the entries of
the river JYilus.

But then do but consider, what a great engage-
ment this is to a very strict and holy life. If we
chance to live in times of an extraordinary trouble,
or if our relatives can be capable of great dangers,
or great sorrows, or if we ourselves would do the
noblest friendship in the world, and oblige others
by acts of the greatest benefit ; if we would assist
their souls and work towards their salvation ; if we
would be publick ministers of the greatest usefulness
to our country ; if we would support kings and

Serm. VI. the return of prayers. Ill

relieve the great necessities of kingdoms ; if we
would be effective in the stopping of a plague, or in
the success of armies ; a great and an exemplar piety,
and a zealous and holy prayer, can do all this. Sem-
per tu kocfacito, lit cogites, id optimum esse, tute ut sis
optimus; si id nequeas, saltern ut optimis sis proximus.
" He that is the best man towards God, is. certainly the
best minister to his prince or country, and therefore
do thou endeavour to be so, and if thou canst not be
so, be at least next to the best." For in that degree
in which our religion is great, and our piety exem-
plar, in the same we can contribute towards the for-
tune of a kingdom: and when Elijah was taken into
heaven, Elisha mourned for him, because it was a loss
to Israel : My Father ! My Father ! the chariots of
Israel and horsemen thereof : but consider how use-
less thou art, when thou canst not by thy prayers ob-
tain so much mercy, as to prevail for the life of a sin-
gle trooper, or in a plague beg of God for the life of
a poor maid-servant ; but the ordinary emanations of
Providence shall proceed to issue without any arrest,
and the sword of the angel shall not be turned aside
in one single infliction. Remember, although he is
a, great and excellent person that can prevail with
God for the interest of others; yet thou, that hast
no stock of grace and favour, no interest in the court
of heaven, art but a mean person, extraordinary in
nothing ; thou art unregarded by God, cheap in the
sight of angels, useless to thy prince or country ; thou
mayesthold thy peace in a time of publick danger. For
kings never pardon murderers at the intercession of
thieves : and if a mean mechanick should beg: a re-
prieve for a condemned traitor, he is ridiculous and
impudent; so is a vicious advocate or an ordinary
person with God. It is well if God will hear him
begging for his own pardon, he is i^ot yet disposed to
plead for others.

112 THE RETURN OF PRATERS. Semi. VI.

And yet every man, that Is in the state of grace,
every man that can piay witliout a sinful prayer, may
also intercede for others ; and it is a duty for all men
to do it; all men, I say, who can pray at all accepta-
bly ; / will therefore, that prayers and supplications .^ and
intercessions., and giving of thanks., be made for all men ;
and this is a duty, that is prescribed to all then> that
are concerned in the duty and in the blessings of
prayer; but this is it which I say ; if their piety be
but ordinary, their prayer can be effectual but in easy
purposes, and to smaller degrees; but he that would
work effectually towards a great deliverance, or in
great degrees towards the benefit or ease of any of his
relatives, can be confident of his success but in the
same degree in which his person is gracious. There
are strange things in heaven ; judgments there, are
made of things and persons by the measures of reli-
gion; and a plain promise produces effects of wonder
and miracle ; and the changes that are there made,
are not effected by passions, and interest, and corpo-
ral changes ; and the love that is there, is not the
same thing that is here ; it is more beneficial, more
reasonable, more holy, of other designs, and strange
productions ; and upon that stock it is, that a holy
poor man, that possesses no more (it may be) than
an ewe-lamb, that eats of his bread and drinks
of his cup, and is a daughter to him, and is all
his temporal portion, this poor man is ministered to
by angels, and attended to by God, and the Holy
Spirit makes intercession for him, and Christ joins
the man's prayer to his own advocation, and the
man by prayer shall save the city, and destroy the
fortune of a tyrant-army, even then when God sees
it good it should be so : for he will no longer deny
him any thing, but when it is no blessing; and when
it is otherwise, his prayer is most heard when it is
most denied.

^erm. VI. the return of prayers. 113

2. That we should prevail In intercessions for
others, we are to regard and to take care, that as our
pietv, so also must our offices be extraordinary.
He that prays to recover a family from an hereditary
curse, or to reverse a sentence of God, to cancel a
decree of Heaven ffone out ajjainst his friend : he that
would heal the sick with his prayer, or with his de-
votion prevail against an army, must not expect such
great effects upon a morning or evening collect, or
an honest wish put into the recollections of a prayer,
or a period put in on purpose. JMamercus^ Bishop of
Vienna^ seeing his city and all the diocese in great
danger of perishing by an earthquake, instituted great
litanies^ and solemn supplications, besides the ordinary
devotions of his usual hours of prayer; and the church,
from his example, took up the practice, and trans-
lated it into an anniversary solemnity, and upon St.
J\lark''s day did solemnly intercede with God to divert
or prevent his judgments falling upon the people,
majoribus lilaniis^ so they are called ; with the more
solemn supplications they did pray unto God in be-
half of their people. And this hath in it the same
consideration, that is in every great necessity ; for it
is a great thing for a man to be so gracious with God
as to be able to prevail for himself and his friend, for
himself and his relatives ; and therefore in these cases
as in all great needs, it is the way of prudence and
security, that we use all those greater offices, which
God hath appointed as instruments of importunity,
and arguments of hope, and acts of prevailing, and
means of great effect and advocation : such as are,
separating days for solemn prayer, all the degrees of
violence and earnest address, fasting and prayer, alms
and prayer, acts of repentance and prayer, praying
together in publick with united hearts; and, above
all, praying in the susception and communication of
the holy sacrament ; the effects and admirable issues

VOL. I. 16

114 TllK HETLI-.N OF PRATERS. Sei'lll. Vt'

of which we know not, and perceive not; we lose
because we desire not, and choose to lose many great
blessings rather than purchase them with the fre-
quent commemoration of that sacrifice, which was
olTered up for all the needs of mankind, and for
oblainins: all favours and ofraces to the cathoHck
church, ^^x"'- <^'it*«c '"« aviijc«; -S^oc, God never refuses to hear
a holy prayer ; and our prayers can never be so holy,
as when they are otfered up in the union of Christ's
sacrifice : for Christ, by that sacrifice, reconciled God
and the world. And because our needs continue,
therefore we arc commanded to continue the memory,
and to represent to God that vviiich was done to sat-
isfy all our needs : then we receive Christ; we are
after a secret and mysterious, but most real and ad-
mirable mannei', made all one with Christ: and ii God
2:ivin^- us his Son could not but with him o^ive us all
things else, how shall he refuse our persons when we
are united to his person, when our souls are joined to
his soul, our body nourished by his body, and our souls
sanctified by his blood, and clothed with his robes,
and marked with his character, and sealed with his
spirit, and renewed with holy vows, and consigned to
ail his glories, and adopted to his inheritance } When
we represent his death, and pray in virtue of his pas-
sion, and imitate his intercession, and do that which
God commands, and otfer him in our manner that
which he essentially loves ; can it be that either any
ihing should be more prevalent, or that God can pos-
sibly deny such addresses, and such importunities .'*
Trv it often, and let all things else be answerable,
and you cannot have greater reason for your confi-
dence. Do not all the Christians in the world, that
understand religion, desire to have the holy sacra-
ment when they die ; when they are to make their
great appearance before God, and to receive their
great consignation to their eternal sentence, good or

Serm. PI. the return of praters. 115

bad ? And [(then be their greatest needs, ihof Is tbn'r
greatest advantage, and instrument of acceptation.
Tiierefore if yon have a great need to be served, or a
great charity to serve, and a great pity to rrfinister, and
a dear friend in a sorrow, take Christ along in thy
prayers, in ail thy ways thou canst take him : take him
in alfection, and take him in a solemnity, take him by
obedience, and receive him in the sacrament ; and
if thou then oiferest up thy prayers, and makest thy
needs known, if thou nor thy fi-iend be not reheved,
ifthypartv be not prevalent, and the war be not ap-
peased, or the plague be not cured, or the enemy
taken olf, there is something else m it ; but thy
prayer is good and pleasing to God, and dressed
with circumstances of advantage, and thy person is
apt to be an intercessor, and thou hast done all that
thou canst ; the event must be left to God ; and the
secret reasons of the denial, either thou shalt tind in
time, or thou mayest trust with God, Avho certainly
does it with the greatest wisdom and the greatest
charity. I have in this thing only one caution to in-
sert, viz.

That in our importunity and extraordinary offices
for others, we must not make our accounts by multi-
tude of words, and long prayers, but by tlie mea-
sures of the spirit, by the holiness of the soul, and
the justness of the desire, and the usefulness of the
request, and its order to God's glory, and its place
in the order of providence, and tlie sincerity of our
heart, and the charity of our wishes, and ^he perse-
verance of our advocation. There are some, (as
Tertullian observes,) qui locjuacitatem facvndiom cxis-
timanf^ et impudeniiam constantiam deputani ; they are
praters and they are impudent^ and they call that const an^
cy and importunity : concerning which, the advice is
easy : many words or few are extrinsical to the
riature^ and not at all considered in the ejects of pray-

116 THE UETURN OF PBAYEKS. ilienil. Vl.

cr ; but much desire, and niucli holiness, are essential
to its constitution ; but we must be very cuiious, that
our importunity do not degenerate into impudence and
rude boldness. Capitolinus said o{ Jlntonius tlie em-
perour and philosopher, Sune quamvis esset cunstans.,
erat etiam verecundus ; " he was modest even when he
was most pertinacious in his desires." So must we ;
though we must not be ashamed to ask for whatsoever
Ave need, rebus semper pudor absit in arciis ; and in tlus
sense it is true, that Stasimus in the comedy said
concerning meat, Verecundari neminem apiid menscmi
decet, nam ibi de divinis et humanis cernitur : " men
must not be bashful so as to lose their meat ; for tlmt
is a necessary that cannot be dispensed withal :" so it
is in our prayers, whatsoever our necessity calls to
us for, we must call to God for, and he is not pleased
with that rusticity or fond modesty of being ashamed
to ask of God any thing, that is honest and necessary ;
yet our importunity hath also bounds of modesty, but
such as are to be expressed with other significations ;
and he is rightly modest towards God, who without
confidence in himself, but not without confidence in
God's mercy, or without great humility of person,
and reverence of address, presents his prayers to
God as earnestly as he can; provided always, that in
the greatest of our desires, and holy violence, we sub-
mit to God's will, and desire him to choose for us.
Our modesty to God in prayers hath no other mea-
sures but these: 1. Di}:trust of onrsclves : 2. Confi-
dence in God : 3. Humility of person : 4. Reverence of
address : and 5. Submission to God's will. These are
all, unless also you will add that of Solomon., Be not
rash with thy mouth., and let not thy heart be hasty to
utter a thing before God., for God is in heaven, and thou
upon earth., therefore let thy icnrds be few. These
tilings being observed, let your importunity be as
great as it can J it is still the more hkely to prevail, by

iierm. VI. the return of prayers. HIT

how much it is the more earnest, and sio-nified and
represented by the most offices extraordinary.

3. The last great advantage towards a prevaihng
mtercession for others, is, that the person, that prays
for his relatives, be a person of an extraordinary a'ig-
nity^ employment^ or designation. For God hatb ap-
pointed some persons, and calhngs of men, to pray
For others; such are fathers for their children, bishops
for their dioceses, kings for their subjects, and the
whole order ecclesiastical for all the men and women
in the Christian church. And it is well it is so ; for,
as things are now, and have been too long, how few
are there that understand it to be their duty, or part
of their necessary employment, that some of their
time, and much of their prayers, and an equal por-
tion of their desires, be spent upon the necessities of
others. All men do not think it necessary, and fewer
practice it frequently, and they but coldly, without in-
terest and deep resentment : it is like the compassion
we have in other men's miseries, we are not concern-
ed in it, and it is not our case, and our hearts ache
not when another man's children are made fatherless,
or his wife a sad widow : and just so are our prayers
for their relief: if we thought their evils to be ours ;
if we and they, as members of the same body, had
sensible and real communications of good and evil ;
if we understood what is really meant by being mem-
bers one of another, or if we did not think it a spiritual
word of art, instrumental only to a science, but no
part of duty, or real relation, surely we should pray
more earnestly one for another than we usually do.
How few of us are tioubled when he sees his brother
wicked, or dishonourably vicious ? Who is sad and
melancholy when his neighbour is almost in hell ?
When he sees him grow old in iniquity ? How many
days have we set apart for the publick relief and in-
terests of the kingdom.'^ How earnestly have we fast-

118 THB RETURN OF PRAYERS. Sevm. VI.

ed, if our prince be sick or afflicted ? What alms
have we given for our brother's conversion ? Or if
this be great, how importunate and passionate have
we been with God by prayer in his behalf, by prayer
and secret petition ? But however, tlioiigh it were
well, very well, tjiat all of us would think of this
duty a little more ; because besides the excellency of
the duty itself, it would have this blessed consequent,
that for whose necessities we pray, if we do desire
earnestly they should be relieved, we would, when-
ever we cati, and m all we can., set our hands to it ; and
if we pity the orphan children, and pray for tliem
heartily, we would also, when we could, relieve them
charitably : but though it were therefore very well
that things were thus Vvith all men, yet God who
takes care of us all, makes provision for us in special
manner; and the whole order of the clergy are ap-
pointed by God to pray for others, to be ministers of
Christ's priesthood, to be followers of his advocation,
to stand between God and the people, and to present
to God all their needs, and all their desires. That
this God hath ordained and appointed, and that this
rather he will bless and accept, appears by the testi-
mony of God himself, for he only can be witness in
this particular, for it depends wholly upon his gra-
cious favour and acceptation. Jt was the case o[.j9bra-
ham and Jlbimclech: JYoiv therefore restore the man his
wife., for he is a Prophet., and he will pray for thee., and
thou shall live ;* and this caused conlidence mMicah:
JVow know I that the Lordivilldo me good., sccinvr i have
a Levite to my priest :'\ meaning that in his ministry,
in the ministry of priests, God hath established the
alternate returns of blessing and prayers, the inter-
courses between God and his people; and through the
descending ages of the synagogue it came to be trans-

* (Jen. IX. 7. + .TndnrrsxTJi. IS.

Serm. VI. the return of prayers. 119

mitted also to the Christian church, that the ministers
of reii;/ion are advocates for us under Christ, by the
ministry of reconciliation^ by their dispensing the
holy sacraments, by the keys of the kingdom ofheaveut
by baptism and the Lord's supper, by binding and
loosing^ hy the word of God and prayer ; and there-
fore saith St. James, If any man be sick among yon,
let him send for the elders of the church, and let them,
pray over him ;* meaning that God hath appointed
them especially, and will accept them in ordinary
and extraordinary ; and this is that which is meant
by blessing. A father blesses his child, and Solomon
blessed his people, and Jllclchisedec the priest blessed
iMbraham, and Moses blessed the sons of Israel, and
God appointed the levitical priests to bless the con-
gregation ; and this is more than can be done by
the people ; for though they can say the same prayer,
and the people pray for their kings, and children for
their parents, and the flock for the pastor, yet they
cannot bless him as he blesseth them ; for the less is
blessed of the greater, and not the greater of the less ;
and this is without all contradiction,']' said St. Paul:
the meaning of the mystery is this, that God hath
appointed the priest to pray for the people, and be-
cause he hath made it to be his ordinary office and
employment, he also intends to be seen in that way,
which he hath appointed, and chalked out for us;
his prayer, if it he found in the way of right eousnesSj
is the surer way to prevail in his intercessions for
the people.

But upon this stock comes in the greatest diffi-
culty of the text: for if God heareth not sinners,
there is an infinite necessity, that the ministers of
religion should be very holy : for all their ministries
consist in preaching and praying ; to these two ure

* James y. 14. f Heb. vii. 7,

120 THE RETURN OF PRAyERS. Scmi. VL

reducible, all tlie ministries ecclesiastical, which are
of dlvHif) institution ; so the apostles summed up
their employment: bid ive will give ourselves conti-
nual/u to prayer and to the 7mnistry of the word:* to
exiiort, to reprove, to comfort, to cast down, to deter-
mine cases of conscience, and to rule In the church
b V the word of their proper ministry ; and the very mak-
ing laws ecclesiastical, is the ministry of the woid;
ibr so their dictates pass into laws by being duties
enjoined by God, or the acts, or exercises, or instru-
ments of some enjoined graces. To prayer '\s reduced
administration of the sacraments ; but binding and loos-
ing^ and visitation of the sick, are mixed ofRces, partly
relating to one, partly to the other. Now although
the word of God preached, will have a great effect,
even though it be preached by an evil minister, a
vicious person ; yet it is not so well there, as from a
jiious man, because by prayer also his preaching is
made effectual, and by his good example his homilies
and sermons are made active ; and therefore it is
very necessary in respect of this half of the minister's
affice, [the preaching of the word^] he be a good man ;
unless he be, much perishes to the people, most of
the advantages are lost. But then for the other
Half, all those ministries which are by way of prayer,
are rendered extremely invalid, and ineffectual, if
they be ministered by an evil person. For upon
this very stock it w'as that St. Cyprian affirmed that
none were to be chosen to the ministry but immacti-
lati et integri antistites, holy and upright men, who of-
fering their sacrifices worthily to God, and holily, may
be heard in their prayers, which they make for the safety
of the Lord''s people.'f But he presses this caution
to a farther issue : that it is not only necessary to
choose holy persons to these holy ministries, for fear

* Acts vi. 4. + Lib. i. op. 4.

Serm. VI. the return of prayers. 121

of losing the advantage of a sanctified ministry;
but also that the people may not be guilty of an
evil communion, and a criminal state of society.
JVec enim sibi plebs blandiatur quasi hnmunis a con-
ta^ione delicti esse possit^ cum sacerdote peccatore
communicaus ; the people cannot be innocent if they
communicate with a vicious priest : for so said the
Lord by the Prophet Hosea, Sacrificia eorum panis
luctus ; for their sacrifices are like bread of sorrow.,
whosoever eats thereof shall be defiled. The same also
he says often and more vehemently, ibid, et lib. Iv.
ep. 2. But there is yet a farther degree of this evil.
It is not only a loss, and also criminal to the peo-
ple to communicate with a minister of a notorious
evil life and scandalous, but it is affirmed by the doc-
tors of the church to be wholly without effect; and
their prayers are sins, their sacraments are null and
ineifectlve, their communions are without consecra-
tion, their hand is xh """i"^^ cl dead hand., the blessings
vain, their sacrifices rejected, their ordinations imper-
fect, their order is vanished, their character is extin-
guished, and the Holy Ghost will not descend upon
the mysteries when he is invocated by unholy hands
and unsanctified lips. This is a sad story, but it is
expressly affirmed by Dionysius* by St. Hierom
upon the second chapter of Zephaniah, affirming, that
they do wickedly who affirm Eucharisfiam imjjrecan-
tis facer e verba., non vitam ; et necessariam esse tantum
solennem orationem et non sacerdotum merita: that the
Eucharist is consecrated by the word and solemn prayer^
and not by the life and holiness of the priest ; and by
*S/. Gelasius;\ by the author of the imperfect work
attributed to St. Chrysostom^X who quotes the eighth
book of the .Apostolical Constitutions for the same

* Ad Domo. f i. q. 1. c. sacro sanqta.

\ Horail. liii.
VOL. I. 17

122 THK RETURN OF FRATKRS. Scrm. VI.

doctrine ; the words of which in the first chapter
are so plain, that Bovius* and Sixhis Scnensis'f ac-
cuse both the author of the Apostolical Coiistitutions^
and St. Hie/om, and the author of these HomiHes, to
be guilty of the doctrine of John JrJns^ who for the
crude delivery of this truth was sentenced by the
council of Constance. To the same sense and sig-
niiication of doctrine, is that which is generally
agreed upon by almost all persons; that he that en-
ters into his ministry by simony, receives nothing
but a curse, which is expressly affirmed by I'ctrus
Danuani,'l and Tarasius\\ the Patriarch of Con-
sfantinople, by St. Gregory,^ and St. Ambrose.'^

For if the Holy Ghost leaves polluted temples
and unchaste bodies, if he takes away his grace from
them that abuse it, if the Holy Ghost would not
have descended upon Simon Magus at the prayer of
St. Peter^ if St. Peter had taken money for him:
it is but reasonable to believe, the Holy Ghost will
not descend upon the simoniacal, unchaste concubi-
naries, schismaticks, and scandalous priests, and ex-
communicate. And besides the reasonableness of
the doctrine, it is also farther affirmed by the council
of .IVeocaesarea., by St. Chrysostom** lnnocentius^'\'\ JS'i-
cholausXX the first, and by the Master of the sentences
upon the saying of God by the Prophet JlJalachi, i.
JMaledicam benedictionibus vestris ; I tvill curse your
blessings. Upon the stock of these scriptures, rea-
sons, and authorities, we may see how we are to un-

* In Scholiis ad Inmo lociiiii.
t Lib. vi. A. D. 1U8. liiblioUi.
J Ep. xvi. Biblioth. pp. tome iii. ii. 19.
II Dccret. i. q. 1. ad c. eos qui.
Ij Lib. vi. ro?;ist. 5. in dccrclis, et I. vii. c. 120.
IT De dignit. saccrd. c. .5.
** Can. i.\. oiat. 4. do saccrd. ft i. in cp. xx. Iioni. i. part 2, ep. 27
IJ Ep. ix. tome iii. ad Micael iiuperator. d. iu I. dist. 13.

Serm. VI. the RBtuRN of prayers. 123

derstand this advantage of intercession. The prayer
and offices of the holy ministers, are of great advan-
tages for the interest of the people ; but if they be
ministered to by evil men, by vicious and scanda-
lous ministers, this extraordinary advantage is lost,
they are left to stand alone or to fall by their own
crimes; so much as is the action of God, and so
much as is the piety of the man that attends and
prays in the holy place with the priest, so far he
shall prevail, but no farther; and therefore the
church hath taught her ministers to pray thus in
their preparatory prayer to consecration ; Quoniam
me peccatorem inter te et emidem popnlum inedium esse
voluisti^ licet in 7ne boni opens testimonium non agnos-
cas^ ojficium dispensationis creditae non recuses^ nee per
me indignum famulum tuum eorum salutis per eat pre-
tium^ pro quibus victima factus salutaris, dignatus es
fieri redemptio.* For we must know, that God hath
not put the salvation of any man into the power of
another. And although the church of Rome by call-
ing the priest's actual intention simply necessary, and
the sacraments also indispensably necessary, hath
left it in the power of every curate to damn very
many of his parish : yet it is otherwise with the ac-
counts of truth, and the divine mercy ; and therefore,
he will never exact the sacraments of us by the
measures and proportions of an evil priest, but by
the piety of the communicant, by the prayers of
Christ and the mercies of God. But although the
greatest interest of salvation depends not upon this
ministry ; yet as by this we receive many advan-
tages, if the minister be holy : so if he be vicious, we

* Seeing, O Lord, thou bast chosen rae, a sinner, to stand between
thee and this people, although thou find not in me the testimony of a
holy lite, refuse not, I pray thee, my discharge of the dispensation in-
trusted to me ; nor suffer through the sin of thine uuvvorthy servant,
that these thy people, for whom thou hast condescended to become an
availing sacrifice, should perish from the way of salvation.

124 THE RETURN OF PRAYERS. Semi. VL

lose all that which could be conveyed to us by his
part of the holy ministration; every man and woman
m the assembly prays and joins in the eflect, and lor
the obtaining the blessing; but the more vain persons
are assembled, the less benelits are received even by
good men there present : and therefore much is the
loss, if a wicked priest ministers ; though the sum of
affaiis is not entirely turned upon his ofhce or default,
yet many advantages are. h or we must not think,
that the effect of the sacraments is indivisibl) done at
once, or by one ministry ; but they operate by parts,
and by moral operation, by the length of time, and
whole order of piety, and holy ministries ; every man
is o-msg>5f Tcy esiy, a fellow-Jvorker witli God, lu the work
of his salvation ; and as in our devotion, no one pray-
er of our own alone prevails upon God for grace
and salvation, but all the devotions of our life are upon
God's account for them ; so is the blessing of God
brought upon the people by all the parts of their re-
ligion, and by all the assistances of holy people, and
by the ministries not of one, but of all God's minis-
ters, and relies finally upon our own faith, and obe-
dience, and the mercies of God in Jesus Christ ; but
yet for want of holy persons to minister, much dimi-
nution of blessing, and a loss of advantage is unavoi-
dable ; therefore if they have great necessities, they
can best hope, that God will be moved to mercy on
their behalf, if their necessities be recommended to
Goi^hy persons of a (Treat piety ^ of a ho/y calling., and
by the most solemti offices.

Lastly, I promised to consider concerning the signs
of having our prayers heard : concerning which,
there is not mucli of particular observation ; but if
our prayers be according to the warrant of God's
word, if we ask according to God's will things honest
and profitable, we are to rely upon the promises ; and
we are sure that they are heartl ; and besides this;.

Serm. VI. the return of prayers. 12,>

we can have no sign but the thing signified ; when we
feel the effect, then we are assured God hath heard
us ; but till then we are to leave it with God, and
not to ask a sign of that, for which he hath made us
a promise. And yet Cassian hath named one sign,
which if you give me leave I will name unto you. It
is a sign we shall prevail in our prayers^ when the Spi-
rit of God moves ns to pray., cum fiducia et quasi seen-
ritate impetrandi* with a confidence and a holy secu-
rity of receiving what we ask. But this is no other-
wise a sign, but because it is a part of the duty ; and
trusting in God is an endearing him, and doubting is
a dishonour to him ; and he that doubts hath no
faith ; for all good prayers rely upon God's word,
and we must judge of the effect by providence: for
he that asks what is not lawful., hath made an unholy
prayer ; if it be lawful and 7iot profitable., we are then
heard when God denies us ; and if both these be in
the prayer, he that doubts is a sinner^ and then God
will not hear him ; but beyond this I know no confi-
dence is warrantable ; and if this be a sign of pre-
vailing, then all the prudent prayers of all holy men
shall certainly be heard ; and because that is cer-
tain, we need no further inquiry into signs.

I sum up all in the words of God by the Prophet :
Run to and fro through the streets of Jerusalem, and
see^ and ktiow, and seek in the broad places thereof if
you can find a man ; if there be any that executeth judg-
ment., that seeketh truth,'f virum quaerentem fidem, a
man that seeketh for faith; et propitius ero ei, and I
will pardon it. God would pardon all Jerusalem for
one good man's sake ; there are such days and op-
portunities of mercy, when God at the prayer of one
holy person will save a people : and RvfiUnus spake
a great thing, but it was hugely true : Quis dubitet

* Collat. ix. c. 23. f Jer. v. 1.

12G THE RETURN OF PRATERS. Scrm. VI.

mundum stare precibus sanctorum ? the world itself
is established and kept from dissolution by the pray-
ers of saints ; and the prayers of saints shall hasten
the day of judgment ; and we cannot easily find two
effects greater. But there are many other very
great ones; for the prayers of holy men appease
God's wrath, drive away temptations, and resist
and overcome the devil : holy prayer procures the
ministry and service of angels, it rescinds the decrees
of God, it cures sicknesses and obtains pardon, it
arrests the sun in its course, and stays the wheels of
the chariot of the moon ; it rules over all God's crea-
tures, and opens and shuts the storehouses of rain ;
it unlocks the cabinet of the womb, and quenches the
violence of fire, it stops the mouths of lions ; and
reconciles our sufferance and weak faculties with the
violence of torment and sharpness of persecution ; it
pleases God and supplies all our needs, l^ui prayer
that can do thus much for us, can do nothing at all
without holiness ; for God heareth not sinners^ but if
any man be a worshipper of God and doth his wilL
him he heareth.

SERMON VII.

OF GODLY FEAR, &c.

PART I.

HeB. Xii. PART OF THE 28TH AND 29tH VERSES.

Let us have Grace, whereby we may serve God with reverence and
godly Fear. For our God is a consuming Fire.

ExnMEN T«y ^te^iv, so our Testaments usually read it,
from the authority of Theophylad ; Let us have
grace : but some copies read it in the Indicative
mood fV/"«''» ^^ have grace^ by which we do serve;
and it is something better consonant to the dis-
course of the Apostle. For having enumerated the
great advantages which the gospel hath above those
of the law, he makes an argument a majori, and
answers a tacit objection. The law was delivered
by angels, but the gospel by the Son of God: the
law was delivered from Mount Sinai, the gospel
from Mount Sion, from the heavenly Jerusalem : the
law was given with terrours and noises, with amaze-
ments of the standers by, and JWoses himself the
mini ter did exceedingly quake and fear, and gave de-
monstration, how infinitely dangerous it was by
breaking that law to provoke so mighty a God,
who with his voice did shake the earth; but the
gospel was given by a meek Prince, a gentle Sa-

128 OF cooLV FEAR. iSVrni. VII.

viour with a still voice^ scarce licard in the streets.
But that this may be no objection, he proceeds and
declares the terrour of the Lord ; deceive not jour-
selves, our law-giver " appeared so upon earth, and
was so truly ; but now he is ascended into heaven,
and from thence he speaks to us. See that ye refuse
not him that speakcth ; for if they escaped not uho
refused him that spake on earthy much more shall
not we escape if tve turn away from him that speak-
eth from heaven ;* for as God once shaked the
eartli., and that was full of terrour, so our law-giver
shall do, and much more, and be far more terrible,

Mil cLTx'^ iyce o-utrai t6v ou^xvov x-ai tuv yw mu txv S'aActa-s-iv )uu Tttv ^*ig-'i',

said the Prophet Haggai;\ which the Apostle quotes
here, he once shook the earth. But once more I
shake ; <Tiiaa,, it is in the prophecy, / will shake^ not
the earth only., but cdso heaven., with a greater terrour
than was upon Mount Sinai, with the voice of an
archangel, with the trump of God, with a concus-
sion so great, that heaven and earth shall be shaken
in pieces, and new ones come in their room. Ibis
is an unspeakable and an unimaginable terrour :
Mount Sinai was shaken, but it stands to this day;
but when that shaking shall be, the thintrs that are
shaken shall be no more ; that those things that cannot
be shaken may remain; that is, not only that the ce-
lestial Jerusalem may remain for ever, but that you
who do not turn away from the faith and obedience
of the Lord Jesus, you who cannot be shaken nor
removed Irom your duty, you may remain for ever;
that when the rocks rend, and the mountains fly in
pieces like the drops of a broken cloud, and the
heavens shall melt, and the sun shall be a globe of
consLiming tire, and tiie moon shall be dark like an
extinguislied candle ; then you poor men who could

* Verse 25. « f Hajigai ii. 6.

Benn. VII. of godly fear. 129

be made to tremble with an ague, or shake by the
violence of a northern wind, or be removed from
your dwellings by the unjust decree of a persecutor,
or be thrown from your estates by the violence of
an unjust man, yet could not be removed from your
duty; and though you went trembling, yet would
go to death for the testimony of a holy cause, and
you that would die for your faith, would also hve
according to it ; you shall be established by the power
of God, and supported by the arm of your Lord, and
shall in all this great shaking be unmoveable ; as tl^
corner stone of the gates of the New Jerusalem, you
shall remain and abide for ever. This is your case.
And to sum up the whole force of the argument, the
Apostle adds the words of Moses : as it was then,
so it is true now, our God is a consuming fire :* he was
so to them that brake the law, but he will be much
more to them that disobey his Son ; he made great
changes then, but those which remain are far greater,
and his terrours are intinitely more intolerable ; and
therefore, although he came not in the spirit oi Ellas ^
but with meekness and gentle insinuations, soft as the
breath of heaven, not willing to disturb the softest
stalk of a violet, yet his second coming shall be with
terrours such as shall amaze all the world, and dissolve
it into ruin and a chaos. This truth is of so great
efficacy to make us do our duty, that now we are
sufficiently enabled with this consideration. This
is the grace which we have to enable us, this terrour
will produce fear, and fear will produce obedience,
and we therefore have grace; that is, we have such
a motive to make us reverence God and fear to
oifend him, that he that dares continue in sin and re-
fuses to hear him that speaks to us from heaven,
and from thence shall come with terrours, this man

* Deut. iv. 24.
VOL. I. 18

130 OP GODLT FEAR. Semi. VII.

despises the grace of God, he is a graceless, fearless,
impudent man ; and he shall find that true in hypo-
thesis and in his own ruin, which the Apostle de-
clares in thesis and by Avaj of caution, and provi-
sionary terrour, our God is a consnnmig jire ; this is
the sense and design of the text.

Reverence and godly fear, they are the effects of
this consideration, they are the duties of every
Christian, they are the graces of God. I shall not
press them only to purposes of awfulness and mo-
desty of opinion, and prayers, against those strange
doctrines, which some have introduced into reli-
gion, to the destruction of all manners and prudent
apprehensions of the distances of God and man ;
such as are the doctrine of necessity of familiarity
with God, and a civil friendship, and a parity of
estate, and an evenness of adoption ; from whence
proceed rudeness in prayer, flat and indecent ex-
pressions, affected rudeness, superstitious sitting at
the holy sacrament, making it to be a part of reli-
gion to be without fear and reverence ; the stating
of the question is a sufficient reproof of this folly ;
whatsoever actions are brought into religion with-
out reverence and godly fear^ are therefore to be
avoided, because they are condemned in this advice
of the Apostle, and are destructive of those effects
"which are to be imprinted upon our spirits by the
terrours of the day of judgment. But this fear and
reverence, the Apostle intends, should be a deletery
to all sin whatsoever : pofsgcv J^^^TDg/ov <f.oeof <|.t/^«, says the
Etymologicum,, whatsoever is terrible, is destruc-
tive of that thing for which it is so ; and if we fear
the evil effects of sin, let us fly from it, we ought
to fear its alluring face too ; let us be so afraid, that
Ave may not dare to refuse to hear him, whose
throne is heaven, whose voice is thunder, whose
tribunal is clouds, whose seat is the right hand of

Serm, Vfl. of gobly fear. 131

God, whose word is with power; whose law is
given with mighty demonstration of the Spirit, who
shall reward with lieaven and joys eternal, and who
punishes his rebels, that will not have him to reign
over them, with brimstone and fire, with a worm
that never dies, and a fire that never is quenched ;
let us fear him who is terrible in his judgments,
just in his dispensations, secret in his providence,
severe in his demands, gracious in his assistances,
bountiful in his gifts, and is never wanting to us in
what we need ; and if all this be not argument
strong enough to produce fear, and that fear great
enough to secure obedience, all arguments are use-
less, all discourses are vain, the grace of God is in-
effective, and we are dull as the dead sea; inactive
as a rock, and we shall never dwell with God in any
sense, but as he is a consuming Jire, that is, dwell in
everlastinsr burnino;s.

'A«Ai.c Kcu ivKctCuct, reverence and caution-, modesty and
fear, f^rrct^ivh^dtci; kxi <rsw, so It is in some copies, with
caution and fear ; or if we render ewaCs/* to be fear
of punishment, as it is generally understood by in-
terpreters of this place, and is in Hesychius ajMCuo-d-Mt
puh^nar^ctt, r-'Sutr^M, tlicn tlic cxprcssion is the same in
both words, and it is all one with the other places
of scripture, ivork out your salvation with fear and
trembling, degrees of the same duty, and they sig-
nify all those actions and graces, which are the
proper effluxes of fear ; such as are reverence, pru-
dence, caution, and diligence, chastity and a sober
spirit: ^vKxCua. (TifxnTK^ SO also say the grammarians;
and it means plainly this ; since our God will ap-
pear so terrible at his second coming, let us pass the
time of our sojourning here in fear,* that is, modestly,
without too great confidence of ourselves : soberly,
without bold crimes, which when a man acts he

* 1 Pet. i. 17.

132 OP GODLv FEAR. Semi. VJI.

must put on shamelessness ; reverently towards God,
as fearing to otfend him ; (lili^cntly observing his
commandments, inquiring after his will, trembhng
at his voice, attending to his word, reverencing his
judgments, fearing to provoke him to anger ; for it is
a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.
Thus far it is a duty.

Concerning which, that I may proceed orderly, I
shall first consider, how far fear is a duty of Chris-
tian religion. 2. Who and what states of men ought
to fear, and upon what reasons. 3, What is the
excess of fear, or the obliquity and irregularity
whereby it becomes dangerous, penal, and criminal,
a state of evil and not a state of duty.

1. Fear is taken sometimes in holy scripture for
the whole duty of man, for his whole religion to-
wards God. Jind now, Israel, what doth the Lord thy
God require of thee, but to fear the Lord thy God,* is'C.
Fear is obedience, and fear is love, and fear is humi'
lity, because it is the parent of all these, and is
taken for the whole duty to which it is an intro-
duction. 7%e fear of the Lord is the begimiing of
wisdom, and a good understanding have all they that
do thereafter, the praise of it endureth for ever ;'\ and
fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the

whole duty of man :% and thus it is also used in the
New Testament ; let us cleanse ourselves fro7n all flth-
iness of the Jlcsh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the
fear of God.^

2. Fear is sometimes taken for ivorship: for so
our blessed Saviour expounds the words of JMoses
in Mat. iv. 10, taken Irom Dent. x. 20. thou shalt

fear the Lord thy God, so Moses ; thou shalt worship
the Lord thy God, and him only shalt ihou serve, said

* Dent. X. 12. t Psalm cxi. 10.

\ Eccles. xii. i:{. H 2 Cor. vii. 1.

Serm. VH. of godly fear. 133

our blessed Saviour : and so it weis used by the Pro-
pliet Jonah ; I am an Hebrew^ and I fear the Lord
the God of heaven;* that is, 1 worship him; he is
the Deity that 1 adore, that is my worship and my
religion : and because the new colony o( Assyrians did
not do so, at the beginning of their dwelling there
they feared not the Lord ;'\ that is, they worshipped
otner gods, and not the God of Israel., thereiore
God sent lions among them, which slew many of
them. Thus far fear is not a distinct duty, but a
word signiiying something besides itself; and
therefore cannot come into the consideration of this
text. Therefore, 3. Fear., as it is a religious passion,
is divided as the two Testaments are, and relates to
the old and new covenant, and accordingly hath its
distinction. In the laWf God used his people like
servants ; in the gospel., he hath made us to be sons.
In ttie law., lie enjoined many things, hard, intricate,
various, painful, and expensive ; in the gospel., he
gave commandments, not hard, but full of pleasure,
necessary and piotitable to our lite, and well-being
ol single persons and communities of men. In the
law., he hatii exacted those many precepts by the
covenant of exact measures, grains and scruples;
in the gospel., he makes abatement for human iniir-
mities, temptations, moral necessities, mistakes, er-
rours, lor every thing that is pitiable, tor every thing
that IS not malicious and voluntary. In the law.,
theie are many threatenings, and but few promises,
the promise ol temporal prosperities branched into
single instances ; in the gospel., there are but few
threatenings, and many promises : and when God
by Jiioses gave the ten commandments, only one of
them was sent out Avith a promise, the precept of
obedience to all our parents and superiours; but

* Jonal). i. 9. f 2 King's xvJi. 2.^.

I'il OF GODLY KEAK. Scrm. VII.

when Christ in his first sermon recommended eio-ht
duties,* Christian duties, to the college of disci-
ples, every one of them begins with a blessing and
ends witli a promise, and therefore grace is opposed
to the law. So that upon these differing interests,
the world put on the affections of servants, and
sons : they of old feared God as a severe Lord, much
in his commands, abundant in threatenings, angry in
his executions, terrible in his name, in his majesty and
appearance, dreadful unto death; and this the Apostle
calls 7mijfji.rt J-ouKiict.;, the spirit of bondage, or of a serva7it.
But ive have not received that spirit, «? pcC^v, unto fear,'\
not a servile fear, hut the spirit of adoption and filial
fear we must have ; God treats like sons, he keeps
us under discipline, but designs us to the inheritance ;
and his government is paternal, his disciplines are mer-
ciful, his conduct gentle, his Son is our brother, and
our brother is our Lord, and our Judge is our Advo-
cate, and our Priest hath felt our infirmities, and
therefore knows how to pity them, and he is our
Lord, and therefore he can relieve them ; and from
hence we have affections of sons ; so that a fear Ave
must not have, and yet a fear we must have ; and by
these proportions we understand the difference. J\Icdo
vereri quam timeri me a mcis, said one in the comedy, I
had rather be reverenced than feared by my children.
The English doth not well express the difference,
but the Apostle doth it rarely we!l. For that which
he calls 5rv«y,M* <rwAyac in Romans viii. 15, he calls
mvjy.it. SiiKiAi, 2 Timothy, i. 7. The spirit of bon-
dage is the spirit of /moro?/5Wc,S5, or fearfulness, rather
than fear ; when we are fearful that God will use
us harshly ; or when we think of the accidents that
happen, worse than the things are, when they are
proportioned by measures of eternity : and from this

* Mat.v. 1—10. John i. 17. Rom. vi. IL 15.
f Rom. viii, ir>.

Serm. Vll. or godlt fear. 135

opinion conceive forced resolutions and unwilling obe-
dience. Xa^ouc cfs iiToi ou (T*' tttSci), otxAR <iia. ^oCiv ol-jto S^axi-i x.'U <fivycvlH oit

TO dua-xiov, *xa* to MTTxgov, said Aristotle^ good men are guided
by reverence, not by fear, and they avoid not that
which is afflictive, but that which is dishonest : they
are not so good whose rule is otherwise. But that
we may take more exact measures, I shall describe
the proportions of Christian or godly fear by the fol-
lowing propositions.

1. Godly fear is ever without despair; because
Christian fear is an instrument of duty, and that duty,
without hope, can never go forwai'd. For what should
that man do, who like JYausiclides^ wn mg, ovn (pixov; tx»;
hath neither spring nor harvest, friends nor children,
rewards nor hopes ^ A man will very hardly be
brought to deny his own pleasing appetite, when for
so doing he cannot hope to have recompense ; when
the mind of a man is between hope and fear, it is in-
tent upon its work; at postquam adcnipta spes est,
lassus, ciira confectus^ stupet ; if you take away the
hope, the mind is weary, spent with care, hindered
by amazements ; aut aliquem siimpserimus temeraria
in Deos desperatione^ saith Jirnobius ; a despair of
mercy makes men to despise God. And the damned
in hell, when they shall for ever be without hope,
are also without fear ; their hope is turned into de-
spair, and their fear in blasphemy, and they curse the
fountain of blessing, and revile God to eternal ages.
When Dionysius the tyrant imposed intolerable tri-
butes upon his Sicilian subjects, it amazed them, and
they petitioned and cried for help, and flattered him,
and feared and obeyed him carefully ; but he imposed
still new ones, and greater, and at last left them poor
as the valleys of Vesuvius or the top of Etna ; but then,
all being gone, the people grew idle and careless, and
walked in the markets and publick places, cursing the
tyrant, and bitterly scoffing his person and vices ;

136 OF GODLY FEAa. Scrm. Vll.

which when Dwnyaius heard, he caused his publicans
and committees to withdraw their Impost ; for now,
says he, they are dangerous, because they are despe-
rate, *'">' >*g t"<^«v i'/cu<TLv oTs xaT«cf.govoy9-« «/Mw. Whcn fficu havG
nothing left, they will despise their rulers : and
so it is in religion ; audaces cogimur esse metu. If
our fears be unreasonable, our diligence is none
at all ; and from whom we hope for nothing, neither
benefit nor indemnity, Ave despise his command, and
break his yoke, and trample it under our most
miserable feet. And therefore Aeschylus calls these
people ^ie/^w;, hot, mad, and furious, careless of what
they do; and he opposes them to pious and holy
people. Let your confidence be allayed with fear,
and your fear be sharpened with the intertextures
of a holy hope ; and the active powers of our souls
are furnished with feet and wings, with eyes and
hands, with consideration and diligence, with reason
and encouragements. But despair is part of the
punishment that is in hell, and the devils still do evil
things, because they never hope to receive a good,
nor find a pardon.

2. Godly fear must always be with honourable opi-
nion of God, without disparagements of his mercies,
without quarrellings at the intrigues of his provi-
dence or the rough ways of his justice; and there-
fore it must be ever relative to ourselves and our own
faihngs and imperfections.

God never walks perversely towards us, unless we
walk crookedly towards him : and therefore persons
that only consider the greatness and power of God,
and dwell for ever in the meditation of those severe
executions, which are transmitted to us by story, or

* Ne'er from the suppliant, Jove liis face averts.

&erm. VII. of godly fear. 137

we observe bj accident and conversation, are apt to
be jealous concerning God, and fear him as an enemy,
or as children fear fire, or women thmider, only be-
cause it can hurt them; Saepius illud cogitant^ quid
po'^sit is., cujus in ditione sunt, quam qmd debeat facere^
{Cicero pro Qiiinctio ;) they remember oflener what
God can do, than what he will ; being more affright-
ed at his judgments, than delighted with his mercy.
Such as were the Lacedaemonians, whenever they
saw a man grow popular, or wise, or beloved, and by
consequence powerful, they turned him out of the
country: and because they were afraid of the power
of Isnienias, and knew that Pelopidas, and Phereni-
ciiis, and Androclydes, could hurt them, if they listed,
they banished them from Sparta, but they let Epami-

nOndaS alotie, '^^ <f'^ ,«ev (fuoj-o^i/iv airg*7.|Msv*, S'la, Si TrmM aSwa.Tov^

as being studious, and therefore inactive ; and poor,
and therefore harmless : it is harder, when men use
God thus, and fear him as the great Justiciary of the
world, who sits in heaven, and observes all we do,
and cannot want excuse to punish all mankind. But
this caution I have now inserted for their sakes,
whose schools and pulpits raise doctrinal fears con-
cerning God ; which if they were true, the greatest
part of mankind would be tempted to think they have
reason not to love God ; and all the other part, that
have not apprehended a reason to hate him, would
have wery much reason to suspect his severity, and
their own condition. Such are they which say, that
God hath decreed the greatest part of mankind to
eternal damnation, and that only to declare his seve-
rity, and to manifest his glory by a triumph in our
torments, and rejoicings in the gnashing of our teeth.
And they also fear God unreasonably, and speak no
good things concei-ning his name, who say, that
God commands us to observe laws which are im-
possible ; that think he will condemn innocent persons
VOL. r. 19

138 ov GODLY i-EAR. Scrm. VIL

for errours of judgment which they cannot avoid;
that condemn whole nations for different opinions,
wliich they are pleased to call heresy ; that think
Cod will exact the duties of a man by the measures
of an angel, or will not make abatement for all our
pitiable infirmities. The precepts of this caution
are, that we remember God's mercies to be over all
his works ; that is, that he shows mercy to all his
creatures that need it; that God delights to have
his mercy magnified in all things, and by all per-
sons, and at all times, and will not sufier his greatest ho-
nour to be most of all undervalued; and therefore as
he, that Avould accuse God of injustice, were a blasphe-
mer, so he, that suspects his mercy, dishonours God
as much, and produces in himself that fear, which is
the parent of trouble, but no instrument of duty.

3. Godly fear is operative^ diligent^ and instrumental
to caution and strict walking :* for so fear is the mo-
ther of holy living ; and the Apostle urges it by way
of upbraiding : Ji hat ! do we provoke God to anger 9
Are we stronger than he? Meaning, that if we be not
strong enough to struggle with a fever, if our voices
cannot out-roar thunder, if we cannot check the ebb-
ing and flowing of the sea, if we cannot add one
cubit to our stature, how shall we escape the mighty
hand of God } And here, heighten our apprehensions
of the divine power, of his justice and severity, of the
fierceness of his anger and the sharpness of his sword,
the heaviness of his hand and the swiftness ol his ar-
rows, as much as ever you can; provided the effect
pass on no farther, but to make us reverent and obedi-
ent: but that fear is unreasonable, servile, and un-
christian, that ends in bondage and servile aficctions,
scruple and trouble, vanity and incredulity, supersti-
tion and desperation : its proper bounds are humble

* 1 Cor. X. 22.

Serm, VII. of godly fear, 139

ftnd devout prayers,, and a strict and a holy piety (accord-
ing to his laws) and glorijlcations of God, or speaking
good things of his holy name ; and then it cannot be
amiss : we must be full of confidence towards God,
we must with cheerfulness rely upon God's goodness
for the issue of our souls, and our final interests ; but
this expectation of the divine mercy must be in the
ways of piety : commit yourselves to God in well-doing
as unto a faithful Creator* Jilcibiades was too timo-
rous, who being called from banishment, refused to
return, and being asked, if he durst not trust his coun-
try . answered, t* fxn clkkh TroMTdL, Tn^i s^ 4"^"^ '•■"^ *,"*'^ '^^^^ ''■?

^«Tg/. (XYiTrctii; oLyviitcraa-u., t»v ^sXitvav uvn thi X«ux»c fTfVfjxw -i.>!fcv ; m everV

thing else ; but in the question of his life he would not
trust his mother, lest ignorantly she should mistake
the black bean for the white, and intending a favour
should do him a mischief We must, we may most
safely trust God with our souls ; the stake is great,
but the venture is none at all. For he is our Crea-
tor, and he is faithful ; he is our Redeemer, and he
bought them at a dear rate ; he is our Lord, and
they are his ow^n; he prays for them to his heavenly
Father, and therefore he is an interested person. So
that he is di party, and an advocate, and a judge too;
and therefore there can be no greater security in the
world on God's part ; and this is our hope, and our
confidence : but because we are but eartnen vessels
under a law, and assaulted by enemies, and endanger-
ed by temptations, therefore it concerns us to fear,
lest we make God our enemy, and a party against us :
and this brings me to the next part of the consideration ;
who and what states of men ought to fear, and for
what reasons ? For, as the former cautions did limit,
so this will encourage ; those did direct, but this will
exercise, our godly fear.

* 1 Pet. iT. 19.

140 OP GODLY FEAR. Semi. VII'

1. I shall not here insist upon the general reasons
of fear, which concern every man, though it be most
ceilain that every one hath cause to fear, even the
most confident and holy, because his way is danger-
ous and narrow, troublesome and uneven, full of am-
bushes and pitfalls; and 1 remember what Po/ynices
said in the tragedy,* when he was unjustly thrown
from his father's kingdom, and refused to treat of
peace but with a sword in his hand, avavIol >Ǥ Tt^^uu-n Sava.
fxinraLi, oTOLv /:' f;^6§ac touc ct/uuSnTeti ;^6ivcc ; everv stcp IS a dan-
ger for a valiant man, when he walks in his ene-
my's country ; and so it is with us ; we are espied
by God, and observed by angels ; we are betray-
ed within, and assaulted without ; the devil is our
enemy, and we are fond of his mischiefs ; he is
crafty, and we love to be abused ; he is malicious,
and we arc credulous ; he is powerful, and we are
weak ; he is too ready of himself, and yet we desire
to be tempted ; the Avorld is alluring, and we consi-
der not its vanity ; sin puts on all pleasures, and yet
we take it, though it puts us to pain. In short, we
are vain, and credulous, and sensual, and trifling; we
are tempted, and tempt ourselves, and we sin fre-
quently, and contract evil habits, and they become
second natures, and brino^ in a second death mise-

111

rable and eternal. Every man hath need to fear,
because every man hath weakness, and enemies, and
temptations, and dangers, and causes of his own.
But 1 shall only instance in some peculiar sorts of
men, who it may be least think of it, and therefore
have most cause to fear.

1. Are those of whom the Apostle speaks, Let
him that ihinketh he slandeth^ take heed lest he falL'\
v.v ^uva ix^"* oLitiv&M oun mia-iv (^c Pfi^v o ,i)(/.<cKgf73f,) said tlic LiveeK
proverb ; in ordinary iish we shall never meet with

* A|)iul Emrip. in Thocuissis. f 1 Cor. x. 12.

Serni. VH. of godly fear. ^H

thorns and spiny prickles ; and In persons of ordi-
nary even course of life we find It too often, that they
have no checks of conscience, or sharp reliectlons up-
on their condition ; they fail into no horrid crimes, and
they think all is peace round about them. But you
must know, that as grace is the improvement and
bettering of nature ; and Christian graces are the per-
fections of moral habits, and are but new circum-
stances, formahtles, and degrees ; so It grows In natu-
ral measures by supernatural aids, and it hath its de-
grees, its strengths and weaknesses, Its promotions
and arrests, its stations and declensions, its direct
sicknesses and indispositions : and there is a state of
^racethatls next to sin ; it inclines to evil and dweils
with a temptation ; its acts are Imperfect, and the
man is within the kingdom, but he lives in its bor-
ders, and is dubiae jurisdictionis. These men have
cause to fear ; these men seem to stand, but they reel
indeed, and decline towards danger and death. Let
these men (saith the Apostle) take heed lest they fall^
for they shake already ; such are persons whom the
scriptures call iveak in faith. I do not mean new
beginners in religion, but such who have dwelt
long in its confines, and yet never enter into the
heart of the country ; such whose faith is tempted,
whose piety does not grow; such who yield a lit-
tle ; people that do all that they can lawfully do,
and study how much is lawful, that they may lose
nothing of a temporal interest ; people that will
not be martyrs in any degree, and yet have good af-
fections ; and love the cause of rehgion, and yet
will sutfer nothing for it : these are such which the
Apostle speaks, tCwouo-iv io-T.-«v*<, they think they standi and
so they do upon one leg ; that is, so long as they
are untempted; but when the tempter comes, then
they fail and bemoan themselves, that by losing
peace they lost their inheritance. There are a great

342 OF GODLY FEAR. Scnn. VII.

many sorts of such persons : some, when they are
full, arc content and rejoice in God's providence ;
but murmur and are amazed, when they fall into po-
verty. They are chaste, so long as they are within
the protection of marriage ; but when they return to
hberty, they fall into bondage, and complain they
cannot help it. They are temperate and sober, if you
let them alone at home : but call them abroad, and
they will lose their sober thoughts as Dinah did her
honour, by going into new company. These men
in these estates think they stand, but God knows
they are soon weary, and stand stiff as a cane, which
the heat of the Syrian star or the flames of the sun
cannot bend ; but one sigh of a northern wind shakes
them into the tremblings of a palsy. In this the
best advice is, that such persons should watch their
own infirmities, and see on which side they are
most open, and by Avhat enemies they use to fall,
and to fly from such parties, as they would avoid
death. But certainly they have great cause to fear,
who are sure to be sick when the weather changes;
or can no longer retain their possession but till an
enemy please to take it away ; or will preserve their
honour but till some smiling temptation ask them to
foreo'o it.

2. They also have great reason to fear, whose re-
pentance is broke into fragments, and is never a
whole or entire change of life : I mean those, that
resolve against a sin, and pray against it, and hate
it in all the resolutions of their understanding, till
that unlucky period comes, in which they use to
act it; but then they sin as certainly, as they will in-
fallibly repent it, when tiiey have done : there are a
very great many Christians, who are esteemed of
the better sort of penitents, yet feel this feverish re-
pentance to be their best state of health; they fall
certainly in the returns of the same circumstances,

Serm. VII. of godlv fear. 143

or at a certain distance of time; but, God knows,
thej do not get the victory over their sin, but are
within its power. For this is certain, they who sin
and repent, and sin again in the same or hke circum-
stan^ces, are in some degree under the power and do-
minion of sin; ivhen their action can be reduced to
an order or a method., to a rule or a certainty., that
oftener hits than fails., that sin is habitual ; though it
be the least habit, yet a habit it is ; every course, or
order, or method of sin, every constant or periodical
return, every return that can be regularly observed,
or which a man can foresee, or probably foretell,
even then when he does not intend it, but prays
against it, every such sin is to be reckoned, not for a
single action, or upon the accounts of a pardonable
infirmity, but it is a combination, an evil state, such
a thing as the man ought to fear concerning himself,
lest he be surprised and called from this world before
this evil state be altered : for if it be, his securities
are but slender, and his hopes will deceive him. It
was a severe doctrine that was maintained by some
great clerks and holy men in the primitive church,
" that repentance was to be but once after baptism :
" one faith, one Lord, one baptism, one repentance ;*
all these the scripture saith ; and it is true, if by re-
pentance we mean the entire change of our condition;.
for he that returns willingly to the state of an un-
believing or a heathen profane person, entirely and
choosingly, in defiance of and apostasy y/'om his reli-
gion, cannot be renewed again (as the Apostle twice
affirms in his epistle to the Hebreivs.^ But then con-
cerning this state of apostasy, when it happened in the
case, not of faith, but of charity and obedience, there
were many fears and jealousies: they were therefore
very severe in their doctrines, lest men should fall

•-*= Heb. vi. 6. and x. 2G. 2 Pet. ii. 22.

144 OP GODLT FEAR. Scrm. I If'

into so evil a condition ; they enlarg'ctl tlieir fear, that
they mig'ht be stricter in their duty; and generally
this they did believe, that every second repentance
was worse than the first, and the third worse than
the second, and still as the sin returned, the syjirit
of God did the less love to inhabit; and if he were
provoked too often, would so withdraw his aids and
comfortable cohabitation, that the church had little
comfort in such children; so said Clemens ^lexandr.

StVOinUt. 2. 'A/ i'i <rWf)(iK: "«' iTrnhKHXctl iTTl Toic a^agTu^itcrJ (Ai^t.~

yoicti, oi/Jsv Tm K^Ba-Trci^ y.» TreTna-TivK-Toiv J'ia.<fig^r)V7iv :, " thoSC IrC-

" quent and alternate repentances, that is, repent-
" ances and sinninirs interchanoeably, differ not
" from the conditions of men that are 7iot within the
" covenant of grace., from tliem that are not believers,'''*
J) fAovai Tai a-uvn-ta-^io-d-^t oti u^agTivouj-i. savc Only fsays hc) that
these men perceive that they sin ; they do it more
against their conscience than infidels and unbe-
lievers ; and therefore they do it with less honesty

and excuse, "-at ovk mJ", iTroTim uuroti X^'i''^ " '^° I'Ji'rtt afxagrcivitv, ),
/uiTAmia-xvTct, ip' otc: ti/AapTiy, TrKxuuVMv a!/Sic ^ "" 1 KttOW nOt WillCll

" is worse, either to sin knowingly or willingly; or
" to repent of our sin, and sin it over again." And
the same severe doctrine is delivered by Theodoret
in his twelfth book against the Greeks., and is hugely
agreeable to the discipline of the primitive chuich :
and it is a truth of so great severity, that it ought to
quicken the repentance and sour the gayeties of easy
people, and make fhem fear : whose repentance is
therefore ineffectual, because It is not integral or uni-
ted, but broken in pieces by the Intervention of new
crimes ; so that the repentance is every tmie to begin
anew ; and then let it be considered, what growth
that repentance can make, that is never above a
week old, that is, for ever in his infancy, that is still
in Its birth, that never gets the dominion over sin.
These men, I say, ought to fear, lest God reject

Serm. VIII. of godly fear. 143

their persons, and deride the folly of their new begun
repentances, and at last be weary of giving them
more opportunities, since they approve all, and make
use of none ; their understanding is right and their
will a slave, their reason is for God, and their affec-
tions for sin ; these men (as the Apostle's expression
is) walk not as wise, but as fools : for we deride the
folly of those men, that resolve upon the same thing
a thousand times, and never keep one of those reso-
lutions. These men are vain and light, easy and ef-
feminate, childish and abused ; these are they, of
whom our blessed Saviour said those sad decretory
words, Many shall seek to enter in, and shall not be
able:

SERMON VIII.

PART II.

3. They have great reason to fear, whose sins are
not yet remitted ; for they are within the domi-
nion of sin, within the kingdom of darkness, and the
regions of fear : light makes us confident; and sin
checks the spirit of a man into the pusillanimity and
cowardice of a girl or a conscious boy ; and they do
their work in the days of peace and wealthy fortune,
and come to pay their symbol in a war or in a plague j
then they spend of their treasure of wrath, which
they laid up in their vessels of dishonour : and in-
deed, want of fear brought them to it ; for if they

VOL. I. 20

146 OF GODLy FKAR. Semi. VIII'

had known how to have 'accounted concerning the
changes of moitahty, if they could have reckoned right
concerning God's judgments falhng upon sinners,
and remembered, that tliemselves are no more to
God than that brother of theirs that died in a drun-
ken surfeit, or was killed in a rebel war, or was
before his grave corrupted by the shames of lust ; if
they could have told the minutes of their life, and
passed on towards their grave at least in religious
and sober thoughts, and considered that there must
come a time for them to die, and after death comes
judgment^ a fearful and an intolerable judgment, it
would not have come to this pass, in which their pre-
sent condition of affairs do amaze them, and their sin
hath made them liable unto death, and that death is
the beginning of an eternal evil. hi this case it is
natural to fear; and if men considei- their condition,
and know that all the felicity, and all the security
they can have, depends upon God's mercy pardoning
their sins, they cannot choose but fear infinitely, if
they have not reason to hope tliat their sins are par-
doned. Now concerning this, men indeed have gene-
rally taken a course to put this affair to a very speedy
issue. God is merciful^ and God forgive wie, and all is
done : it may be a few sighs, like the deep sobbings
of a man that is almost dead with laughter; that is,
a trilling sorrow, returning upon a man after he is full
of sin, and hath pleased himself with violence, and re-
volving only by a natural change from sin to sorrow,
from laugliter to a groan, from sunshine to a cloudy
day ; or it may be the good man hath left some one
sin quite, or some degrees of all sin, and then the
conclusion is tirm, he is rectus in curia., his sins are
paidoned ; he was indeed in an evil condition, but
now /?e is purged., he is sanctified and clean. These
things are \i-\) bad, but it is much worse that men
should continue in tjjeir ?ii!, and groAV old in it, and

Serm. VIII. of godly fear. 14?

arrive at confirmation, and the strength of habitual
wickedness, and grow fond of it ; and yet think if
they die, their account stands as fair in the eyes of
God's mercy, as *SV. Peter s after his tears and sor-
row. Our sins are not pardoned easily and quickly ;
and the longer and the greater hath been the iniqui-
ty, the harder and more difficult and uncertain is the
pardon ; it is a great progress to return from all the
degrees of death to life, to motion, to quickness, to
purity, to acceptation, to grace, to contention, and
growth in grace, to perseverance, and so to pardon : for

f>ardon stands no where, but at the gates of heaven,
t is a great mercy, that signifies a final and univer-
sal acquittance. God sends it out in little scrolls,
and excuses you from falling by the sword of an ene-
my, or the secret stroke of an angel in the days of
the plague; but these are but little entertainments
and enticings of our hopes to work on towards the
great pardon, which is registered in the leaves of the
book of life. And it is a mighty folly to think, that
every little line of mercy signifies glory and absolution
from the eternal wrath of God ; and therefore it is
not to be wondered at, that wicked men are unwilling
to die; it is a greater wonder, that many of them die
with so little resentment of their danger and their
evil. There is reason for them to tremble, when the
Judge summons them to appear. When his messen-
ger is clothed with horrour, and speaks in thunder ;
when their conscience is their accuser, and their ac-
cusation is great, and their bills uncancelled, and they
have no title to the cross of Christ, no advocate, no
excuse ; when God is their enemy, and Christ is the
injured person, and the spirit is grieved, and sickness
and death come to plead God's cause against the man ;
then there is reason, that the natural fears of death
should be high and pungent, and those natural fears
increased by the reasonable and certain expeciadons

148 OF GODLY FEAR. Serm. VIII.

of that anger, which God hath laid up in heaven for
ever, to consume and destroy his enemies.

And indeed if, we consider, upon how trifling and
inconsiderable grounds most men hope for pardon,
(If at least that may be called hope, which Is nothing
but a careless boldness, and an unreasonable wil-
ful confidence,) we shall see much cause to pity
very many who are going merrily to a sad and into-
lerable death. Pardon of sins is a mercy which
Christ purchased with his dearest blood, which he
ministers to us upon conditions of an Infinite kind-
ness, but yet of great holiness and obedience, and
an active living faith; It Is a grace, that the most
holy persons beg of God with mighty passion, and
labour for with a great diligence, and expect with
trembling fears, and concerning It many times suf-
fer sadnesses with uncertain souls, and receive It by
degrees, and It enters upon them by little portions,
and It is broken as their sighs and sleeps. But so
have I seen the returning sea enter upon the strand ;
and the waters rolling towards the shore, throw up
little portions of the tide, and retire as If nature
meant to play, and not to change the abode of
waters ; but still the flood crept by little steppings,
and Invaded more by his progressions than he lost
by his retreat, and having told the number of Its
steps, it possesses Its new portion till the angel calls
it back, that it may leave Its unfaithful dwelling of
the sand : so Is the pardon of our sin, it comes by
slow motions, and first quits a present death, and
turns, It may be, Into a sharp sic-kness; and if that
sickness prove not health to the soul, it washes off,
and it may be will dash against the rock again, and
proceed to take olF the several Instances of anger
and the periods of wrath, but all this while it is un-
certain concerning our iinal Interest, whether It be
ebb or flood; and every hearty prayer, and every

Serm. J^III. of godly fear. 149

bountiful alms, still enlarges the pardon, or odds a
dt3gree of probability and hope; and then a drunken
meeting, or a covetous desire, or an act of lust, or
looser swearing, idle talk, or neglect of religion,
makes the pardon retire ; and while it is disputed
between Christ and Christ's enemy, who shall be
Lord, the pardon fluctuates like the wave, striving
to climb ttie rock, and is washed off hke its own
retinue, and it gets possession by time and uncer-
tainty, by difficulty and the degrees of a hard pro-
gression. When David had sinned but in one in-
stance, interrupting the course of a holy life by one
sad calamity, it pleased God to pardon him ; but
see upon wnat hard terms : he prayed long and vio-
lently, he wept sore, he was humbled in sackcloth
and ashes, he ate the bread of affliction and drank
his bottle of tears ; he lost his princely spirit and
had an amazing conscience ; he suffered the wrath
of God, and the sword never did depart from his
house ; his son rebelled and his kingdom revolted ;
he tied on foot, and maintained spies against his
child ; he was forced to send an army against him
that was dearer than his own eyes, and to fight
against him whom he would not hurt for all the
riches of Syria and Egypt ; his concubines were de-
filed by an incestuous mixture, in the face of the
sun before all Israel; and his child, that was the
fruit of sin, after a seven days' fever died, and left
him nothing of his sin to show, but sorrow, and
the scourges of the divine vengeance; and after ail
this, God pardoned him finally, because he was for
ever sorrowful, and never did the sin again. He
that hath sinned a thousand times for David's once,
is too confident, if he thinks that all his shall be
pardoned at a less rate, than was used to expiate
that one mischief of the religious king : the Son of
David died for his father David, as well as he did

150 OF GODLT FEAR. »SV»7/J. VIII.

for us ; he was the Lamb slain from the beginning of
the world; and yet that death, and that relation,
and all the heap of the divine favours, which
Clowned David with a circle richer than the royal
diadem, could not exempt him from the portion of
sinners, when he descended into their pollutions.
I pray God we may find the sure mercies of David,
and may have our portion in the redemption wrought
by the Son of David ; but we are to expect it upon
such terms as are revealed, such which include time
and labour, and uncertainty, and watchfulness, and
fear, and holy living. But it is a sad observation,
that the case of pardon of sins is so administered,
that they that are most sure of it, have the greatest
fears concerning it; and they to whom it doth not
belong at all, are as confident as children and fools,
who believe every thing they have a mind to, not
because they have reason so to do, but because
without it they are presently miserable. The godly
and holy persons of the church work out their salva-
tion with fear and trembling ; and the wicked go to de-
struction with gayety and coniidence : these men think
all is well, while tliey are in the gall of bitterness ;
and good men are tossed in a tempest, crying and
praying for a safe conduct, and the sighs of their
fears, and the wind of their prayers, waft them safely
to their port. Pardon of sins is not easily obtained;
because they who only certainly can receive it, find
dirticulty, and danger, and fears in the obtaining it;
and therefore their case is pitiable and deplorable,
wlio when they have least reason to expect pardon,
vet are most confident and careless.

But because there are sorrows on one side,
and dangers on the other, and temptations on both
sides, it will concern all sorts of men to know, when
their sins are pardoned. For then, when they can
perceive their signs certain and evident, they may

Sertn. VIII. of godly fear. 151

rest in their expectations of the divine mercies; when
they cannot see the signs, they may leave their con-
fidence, and change it into repentance, and watchful-
ness, and stricter observation ; and in order to this, I
shall tell you that which shall never fail you ; a cer-
tain sign, that you may know whether or 710^ and when^
and in what degree your persons are pardoned.

1. I shall not consider the evils of sin by any meta-
physical and abstracted etTects, but by sensible, real,
and material. He that revenges himself of another,
does something that will make his enemy grieve,
something that shall displease the offender as much
as sin did the offended ; and, therefore, all the evils of
sin are such as relate to us, and are to be estimated
by our apprehensions. Sin makes God angry ; and
God's anger, if it be not turned aside, will make us
miserable and accursed ; and therefore, in proportion
to this we are to reckon the proportion of God's mer-
cy in forgiveness, or his anger in retaining.

2. Sin hath obliged us to suffer many evils, even
whatsoever the anger of God is pleased to inflict ;
sickness and dishonour, poverty and shame, a caitiff
spirit and a guilty conscience, famine and war, plague
and pestilence, sudden death and a short life, tem-
poral death or death eternal, according as God in
the several covenants of the laAV and gospel hath ex-
pressed.

3. For in the law of Moses, sin bound them to
nothing but temporal evils, but they were sore, and
heavy, and many ; but these only there were threat-
ened : in the gospel, Christ added the menaces of
evils spiritual and eternal.

4. The great evil of the Jews was their abscission
and cutting off from being God's people, to which
eternal damnation answers amongst us ; and as sick-
ness, and war, and otlier intermedial evils, were lesser
strokes in order to the final anger of God against

152 OK couLy FEAR. Semi. VIII.

their nation; so are these and spiritual evils interme-
dial, in order to the eternal destruction of sinning and
unrepenting Christians.

5. When God had visited any of the sinners of
/ymf/ witli a grievous sicki)(!ss, then they lay under
the evil of their sin, and were not pardoned till God
took away the sickness ; but the taking the evil
away, the evil of the punishment, was the pardon of
the sill ; to pardon the sin is to spare the sinner : and
this appears ; for when Christ had said to the man sick
of the palsy, .vo/«, thy sins are forgiven thee*i\\e Pha-
risees accused him of blasphemy, because none had
power to forgive sins but God only ; Christ to vindi-
cate himself gives them an ocular demonstration, and
proves his words : that ye may know the Son of AJan
hath power on earth to forgive sins^ he saith to the
man sick of the palsy., arise and walk; then he par-
doned the sin when he took away the sickness, and
proved the power by reducing it to act : for if par-
don of sins be any thing else, it must be easier or
harder: if it be easier .> then sin hath not so much
evil in it as a sickness, which no religion as yet
ever taught : if it be harder., then Christ's power to
do that, which was hardei", could not be proved by
doing that which was easier. It remains, therefore,
that it is the same thing to take the punishment
away, as to procure or give the pardon ; because as
the retaininsT the sin was an ooliffation to the evd
of punishment, so the remittmg the sin is tlie dis-
obliging to its penalty. So far then the case is mani-
fest.

6. The next step is this, that although in the
gospel God punishes sinners with tempoial judg-
ments, and sicknesses, and death, with sad acci-
dents, and evil angels, and messengers of wrath :

* Mat. ix. 2.

Serm. VIII. of godlv fear. 153

yet besides these lesser strokes, he hath scorpions
to chastise, and loads of worse evils to oppress the
disobedient: he punishes one sin with another, vile
acts with evil habits, these with a hard heart, and
this with obstinacy, and obstinacy with impeni-
teuce, and impenitence with damnation. Now be-
cause the worst of evils, which are threatened to us,
ai 3 such which consign to hell by persevering in
sin, as God takes o.T our love and our affections,
our relations and bondage u ider sin, just in the
same degree he pardons us; because the punishment
of sin being taken olf and pardoned, there can re-
main no guilt. Guiltiness is an insignificant word,
if tiiere be no obligation to punishment. Since
therefore spiritual evils, and progressions in sin,
and the spirit of reprobation, and impenitence, and
accursed habits, and perseverance in iniquity, are the
worst of evils : when these are taken off, the sin
hath lost its venom, and appendant curse ; for sin
passes on to eternal death only by the line of impe-
nitence; and it can never carry us to hell, if we re-
pent timely and effectually ; in the same degree,
therefore, that any man leaves his sin, just in the
same degree he is pardoned, and he is sure of it.
For although curing the temporal evil was the par-
don of sins among the Jews, yet we must reckon
our pardon by curing the spiritual. [[ 1 have
sinned against God in the shameful crime of lust,
then God hath pardoned my sins, when upon my
repentance and prayers he hath given me the grace
of chastity. My drunkenness is forgiven, when I
have acquired the grace of temperance, and a sober
spirit. My covetousness shall no more be a danm-
ing sm, when 1 have a loving and charitable spirit;
loving to do good, and despising tiie world: tor
every farther degree. of sin being a nearer step to
heli, and by consequence the worst punisinuent of

VOL. I. 21

154 OK GODLY FEAR. SlDU. VIII.

sin, it follows inevitably, that according as we are
put into a contrary state, so are our degrees of par-
don, and tlic worst punishment is already taken off.
And therefore we shall fnid, that the great blessing,
and pardon, and redemption which Christ wrought
for UB, is called sancdjication^ holiness^ and turning
us away from our sins : so St. Peter., ye know that
you were not redeemed with corruptible thinifs, as sil-
ver and gold., from your vain conversation ;* that is
your redemption, that is your deliverance : you
were taken from your sinful state ; that was the
state of death, this of life and pardon ; and therefore
they are made synonyma by the same Apostle ; ac-
cording as his divine power hath given us all things that
pertain to life and godliness :'\ to live and to he godly is
all one : to remain in sin and abide in deaths is all
one ; to redeem us from sin, is to snatch us from
hell ; he that gives us godliness, gives us life, and
that supposes tlie pardon, or the abolition of the
rites of eternal death : and this was the conclusion
o^ St. Peter^s sermon, and the sum total of our re-
demption and of our pardon; God having raised up
his Son, sent him to bless you in turning away every one
of you from yojir iniquity :X this is the end of Christ's
passion and bitter death, the purpose of all his and
all our preaching, the eft'ect of baptism, purging,
washing, sanctifying , the work of the sacrament of the
Lord's supper; and the same body that was broken,
and the same blood that was shed for our redemp-
tion, is to conform us into his image and likeness of
living and dying, of doing and suttering. The case
is plain ; just as we leave our sins, so God's wrath
shall be taken from us ; as we get the graces con-
trary to our former vices, so infallibly we are con-

* 1 Pet. i. 18. t 2 Pet. i. S. | Acts, iii. 26.

Serm. VIH. of godly fear. 155

signed to pardon. If therefore you are in contestation
against sin ; while you dwell in difficulty, and some-
times yield to sin, and sometimes overcome it, your
pardon is uncertain, and is not discernible in its pro-
gress ; but when sin is mortified, and your lusts are
dead, and under the power of grace, and you are led
by the spirit, all your fears concerning your state of
pardon are causeless, and afiiictive without reason ;
but so long as you live at the old rate of lust or intem-
perance, of covetousness or vanity, of tyranny or
oppression, of carelessness or irreligion, flatter not
yourselves, you have no more reason to hope for par-
don than a beggar for a crown, or a condemned
criminal to be made heir apparent to that prince,
whom he would traitorously have slain.

4. They have great reason to fear concerning their
condition, who having been in the state of grace, who
having begun to lead a good life, and give their
names to God by solemn deliberate acts of will and
understanding, and made some progress in the way
of godliness, if they shall retire to folly, and unravel
all their holy vows, and commit those evils from
which they formerly run as from a fire or inundation,
their case hath in it so many evils, that they have
great reason to fear the anger of God, and concern-
ing the final issue of their souls. For, return to folly
hath in it many evils beyond the common state of sin
and death ; and such evils, which are most contrary
to the hopes of pardon. 1. He that falls back into
those sins he hath repented of, does grieve the holy
spirit of God, by which he was sealed to the day of re-
demption. For so the antithesis is plain and obvious; If
at the conversion of a sinner there is joy before the beati-
fied spirits, the angels of God, and that is the consum-
mation of our pardon and our consignation to felicity,
then we may imagine how great an evil it is to grieve
the spirit of God, who is greater than the angels.

158 OF GODLY FEAR. Serm. VIII.

The children of Israel were carefully warned, that
thev should not olfend the angel : Behold^ I send
an ansrel before thee^ beware of him^ and obey his voice,
provoke hira not ^ for he ivill not pardon your transgres-
sions ;* tliat is, he will not spare to punish you if
you grieve him : much greater is the evil, ii we
grieve him who sits upon the throne of God, who is
tile Prince of all the spirits : and, besides, grieving
the spirit of God is an affection^ that is as contrary
to hh felicity^ B.S lust is to his holiness; both which
are essential to him. Tristitia cnim omnium spiri-
timm negnissima est, et pessima servis Dei, et omnivm
spiritus extey^minat, et cruciat spiritum, sanctum, said
Hennas ; sadness is the greatest enemy to God's ser-
vants ; if you grieve God's spirit, you cast him out ;
for he cannot dwell with sorrow and grieving ; un-
less it be such a sorrow, wliich by the way of virtue
passes on to joy and never ceasing felicity. Now
by grieving the holy Spirit, Is meant those things
which displease him, doing unkindness to him ; and
then the grief, which cannot In proper sense seize
upon him, will in certain elfects return upon us :
ltd enim dico, (said Seneca,^ sacer intra nos spiritus
sedct, bonoruni malorumque nostrormn observator et
custos ; hie prout a nobis tractatus est, ita nos ipse trac-
tat. There is a holy spirit dwells in cveiy good man,
who is the observer and s^uardlan of all our actions ;
and as we treat him, so will he treat us. Now we
ought to treat him sweetly and tenderly, thankfully
and with observation. Deus praecepit Spiritum Sanc-
tum, utpote pro naturae suae bono tenerum et dclicatum,
tranquillitdtc, et lenitate, et quiete, et pace tractare,
said Tertulli'in de Spectaculis. The Spiiit of God is
a loving and kind Spirit, gentle and easy, chaste and
pure, righteous and peaceable ; and when he hath
done so much for us as to wash us from our impuri-

*E\od. xxiii. 20. 21.

Serm. VIII. of oodly fbar. 157

ties, and to cleanse us from our stains, and straighten
our obliquities, and to instruct our Ignorances, and
to snatch us from an Intolerable death, and to con-
sign us to the day of redemption; that is, to the
resurrection of our bodies from death, corruption,
and the dishonours of the grave, and to appease all
the storms and uneasiness, and to make us free as the
sons of God, and furnished with the ricPies of the
kingdom; and all this with innumerable arts, with
difticuJty, and in despite of our lusts and reluctancies,
with parts and interrupted steps, with waitings and
expectations, with watchfulness and stratagems, v/ith
inspirations and collateral assistances; after all this
grace, and bounty, and diligence, that we should
despite this grace, and trample upon the blessings,
and scorn to receive life at so great an expense, and
love of God ; this is so great a baseness and unwor-
thiness, that by troubling the tenderest passions, it
turns into the most bitter hostilities; by abusing
God's love it turns into jealousy, and rage, and in-
dignation. Go, mid sin no more, lest a worse thing
happen to thee.

2. Falling away after we have begun to live well,
is a great cause of fear; because there is added to
it the circumstance of inexcusableness. The man
hath been taught the secrets of the kingdom, and
therefore his understanding hath been instructed ;
he hath tasted the pleasures of the kingdom, and
therefore his will hath been sufficiently entertained.
He was entered into the state of life, and renounced
the ways of death; his sin began to be pardoned, and
his lusts to be crucified ; he felt the pleasures of vic-
tory, and the blessings of peace; and therefore fell
away, not only against his reason, but also against
his interest : and to such a person the questions of
his soul have been so perfectly stated, and his preju-
dices and inevitable abuses so clearly taken off, and

158 OP r.ODLY FEAR. Serm. VIII.

he was so made to view tlie paths of hfe and death,
that if he chooses the way of sin again, it must be,
not by weakness, or the infehcitj of his breeding, or
the weakness of his understanding, but a direct pre-
ference or prelation, a preferring sin before grace,
the spirit of hist before the purities of the soul, the
madness of drunkenness before tlie fulness of the
spirit, money before our friend, and above our reli-
gion, and heaven, and God himself. This man is'
not to be pitied, upon pretence that he is betrayed;
or to be relieved, because he is oppressed with
potent enemies ; or to be pardoned, because he could
not help it : for he once did help it, he did over-
come his temptation, and choose God, and delight in
virtue, and was an heir of heaven, and was a con-
querour over sin, and delivered from death ; and he
may do so still, and God's grace is upon him more
plentifully, and the lust does not tempt so strongly ;
and if it did, he hath more power to resist it; and
therefore if this man falls, it is because he wil-
fully chooses death, it is the portion that he loves,
and descends into Avith willing and unpitied steps.
Quam vilis facta es, iiimis iterans vias luas ! said
God to Judafi*

3. He that returns from virtue to his old vices. Is
forced to do violence to his own reason to make his
conscience quiet: he does it so unreasonably, so
against all his fair inducements, so against his repu-
tation and the principles of his society, so against his
honour, and his promises, and his former discourses
and his doctrines, his censuring of men for the same
crimes, and the bitter invectives and reproofs which
in the days of his health and reason he used against
his erring brethren, that he is now constrained to
finswer his own arguments, he is entangled in his

* Jeremiah ii. 36.

Serm. VIII. of godly fear. 159

own discourses, he is ashamed with his former con-
versation ; and it will be remembered against him,
how severely he reproved, and how reasonably he
chastised the lust, which now he runs to in despite of
himself and all his friends. And because this is his
condition, he hath no way left him, but either to be
impudent, which is hard for him at first, it being too
big a natural change to pass suddenly from grace to
immodest circumstances and hardnesses of face and
heart; or else, therefore, he must entertain new
principles, and apply his mind to believe a lie ; and
then begins to argue, there is no necessity of being
so severe in my life ; greater sinners than I, have
been saved ; God's mercies are greater than all the
sins of man ; Christ died for us ; and if I may not be
allowed to sin this sin, what ease have I by his death ?
or, tiiis sin is necessary, and [ cannot avoid it; or, it
is questionable whether this sin be of so deep a dye
as is pretended ; or, flesh and blood is always with
me, and I cannot shake it off; or, there are some
sects of Christians that do allow it, or if they do not,
yet they declare it easily pardonable, upon no hard
terms, and very reconcilable with the hopes of heaven;
or, the scriptures are not rightly understood in their
pretended condemnations ; or else, other men do as
bad as this, and there is not one in ten thousand but
hath his private retirements from virtue ; or else when
I am old, this sin will leave me, and God is very piti-
ful to mankind. But while the man like an entangled
bird flutters in the net, and wildly discomposes that
which should support him, and that which holds him,
the net and his own wings, that is, the laws of God
and his own conscience and persuasion, he is resolved
to do the thing, and seeks excuses afterwards ; and
when he hath found out a fig-leaved apron that he
could put on, or a cover for his eyes, that he may not
see his own deformity, then he fortifies his errour with

lt)0 OP GODLY FEAR. Seriti. VIIT.

irresolution and inconsidcration ; and he believes it
because hev:ill ; and lie wilL because it serves his turn :
then ho is entered upon his state of fear ; and it he
does not fear concernini^ himself, yet his condition
is fearful^ and the man hath wjv .jv^^.^-ir, a reprobate
mind; that is, a judgment corrupted by lust: vice
hath abused his reasoning, and if God proceeds
in the man's method, and lets him alone in his
course, and gives him over to believe a lie, so that
he shall call good evil, and evil good, and come
to be heartily persuaded that his excuses are rea-
sonable, and his pretences fair, then the man is des-
perately undone throii<i;h the ignorance that is in him,
as >SV. Paul describes his condition ; his heart is
blind, he is past feelings his understanding is darkened,*
then he may walk in the vanity of his mind, and give
himself over to lascivious ness, and shall work all mi-
cleanness ivith greediness; then he needs no greater
misery: this is the state of evil, which his yeor ought
to have prevented, but now it is past fear, and
is to be recovered with sorrow, or else to be run
through till death and hell'f are become his portion;
funt novissima illius pejora prioribns, his latter end is
worse than his beginning.

4. Besides all this, it might easily be added, that
he that falls from virtue to vice ao;ain, adds the cir-
cumstance of ingratithde to his load of sins; he sins
against God's mercy, and puts out his own eyes, he
strives to unlearn what with labour he hath purcha-
sed, and despises the trouble of his holy days, and
throws away the reward of virtue for an inteiest,
which himself despised the lirst day in which he be-
gan to take sober counsels ; he throws lumself back
in the accounts of eternity, and slides to the bottom
of the hill, from whence with sweat and labour of
his hands and knees he had long been creeping ; he

*• Fpii. iv. 17, 18. t MaUh.xii. 45. Vide2Pet. ii. 20.

Serm. VIII. of godly fkar. 161

descends from the spirit to the Jiesh, from hoiionr to
dishonour., from wise principles to unthrifty practices ;
like one of ^/ic vainer fellow^, who grows a fool, and
a prodigal, and a beggar, because he delights in in-
consideration, in the madness of drunkenness, and
the quiet of a lazy and unprofitable hfe. So that
this man hath great cause to fear ; and, if he does,
his fear is as the fear of enemies, and not sons ; I do
not say, that it is a fear that is displeasing to God ;
but it is such an one, as may arrive at goodness, and
the fear of sons, if it be rightly managed.

For we must know, that no fear is displeasing to
God ; no fear of itself, whether it be fear of punish-
ment, or fear to otfend ; the fear of servants., or the
fear of sons : but the effects of fear do distinguish the
man, and are to be entertained or rejected according-
ly. If a servile fearmakes us to remove our sins, and
so passes us towards our pardon, and the receiving
such graces which may endear our duty and oblige our
aifection ; that fear is imperfect, but not criminal, it is
the beginning of wisdom^ and the first introduction to
it; but if that fear sits still, or rests in a servile mind,
or a hatred of God, or speaking evil things concerning
him, or unwillingness to do our duty, that whicfi at
first was indifferent, or at the worst imperfect, proves
miserable and malicious ; so we do our duty, it is no
matter upon what principles we do it; it is no matter
where we begin, so from that beginning we pass on
to duties and perfection. If we fear God as an enemy,
an enemy of our sins, and of our persons for their
sakes, as yet this fear is blit a servile fear ; it cannot
be afdial fear, since we ourselves are not sons ; but
if this servile fear makes us to desire to be reconci-
led to God, that he may no longer stay at enmity with
us, from this year we shall soon pass to carefulness,
from carefulness to love, from love to diligence, from di-
ligence to perfection ; and the enemies shall become

VOL. I. 22

162 OF GODLY FEAR. Scrm. IX.

servant.<f, and the servants sliall become adopted sons,
and pass into the society and the participation of the
inheritance of Jesus : for this fear is also reverence :
and then our God, instead of beins; a consuming fire,
shall become to iis the circle of a glorious crown, and
a globe of eternal light.

SERMON IX.

PART III.

I AM now to give account concerning the excess
oi {Q,di\\\\oi directly ?i\n\ abstractedly as it is a passion,
but as it is subjected in religion, and degenerates into
superstition : for so among the Greeks, /car is the in-
gredient and half of the constitution of that folly ;
£>ii<Ti,f^t/uovia. fo^iSiu, said Hesychius, it is a fear of God.
A(i<TiJ'it/ua'y Sam, that is more ; it is a timorousness : the
superstitious man is airaid of the Gods, (said the ety-

molof'^ist,) Mice; Touc 9:0yf ir;T»/i tou; rvjmvwu;, feanng of God

as if he were a tyrant, and an unreasonable exacter of
duty upon unequal terms, and disproportionable, im-

f)ossible degrees, and unreasonable, and great and
ittle instances. >

1. But this fear some of the old philosophers
thought unreasonable in all cases, even towards God
himself ; and it was a branch of the Epicurean doc-
trine, that God meddled not with any thing below,
and was to be loved and admired, but not lieared at
all ; and therefore they taught men, neither to fear

Serm. IX. of godly fear. 163

death, nor to fear punishment after death, nor anj
displeasure of God : his terroribus ab Epicuro soluti
non metuimus Deos* said Cicero ; and thence came
this acceptation of the word, that superstition should
signify an unreasonable fear of God : it is true, he
and all his scholars extended the case beyond the
measure, and made all fear unreasonable ; but then,
if we, upon grounds of reason and divine revelation,
shall better discern the measure of the fear of God ;
whatsoever fear we fmd to be unreasonable, we may
by the same reason call it superstition^ and reckon it
criminal, as they did all fear ; that it may be called
superstition^ their authority is sufficient warrant for
the grammar of the appellative ; and that it is crimi-
nal^ we shall derive from better principles.

But besides this, there was another part of its defi-
nition, Asifl-ztTot/^MV, 0 T* uSuiKn. «Ci5DV ttSa!KoKa.r pui, the SUpcrstl-

tious man is also an idolater, cTj/xo? ^u^^ 3^sw, one that is
afraid of something besides God. The Latins, ac-
cording to their custom, imitating the Greeks in all
their learned notices of things, had also the same
conception of this, and by their word [stiperstitio] un-
derstood the worship of daemons^, or separate spirits ;
by which they meant, either their minores deos,
or else their »>&«? Am^imSivix;, their braver personages,
whose souls were supposed to live after death ;
the fault of this was the object of their religion :
they gave a worship or a fear to whom it was
not due ; for whenever they worshipped the great
God of heaven and earth, they never called that su-
perstition in an evil sense, except the 'aS»/, they
that believed there was no God at all. Hence
came the etymology of superstition : it was a wor-
shipping or fearing the spirits of their dead heroes,
quos superstites credebant, whom they thought to be

* Lib. de nat. Deorura.

164 OF GODLT FEAR. Serin. JX.

alh c after their tm^ii^^n. or deification, (^uos superstan-
tes credcbant, standing in places and thrones above us ;
and it alludes to that admirable description of old
age which Solomon made beyond all the rhetoiick
of the Greeks and Romans ; [also they shall be afraid
of that which is hiirh^ and fears shall be in ihe way ;*^
intimating the weakness of old persons, w ho if ever
they have been religious, are apt to be abused into
superstition; they are afraid of that which is high ;
that is, of spirits, and separate souls, of those excel-
lent beings, which dwell in the regions above;
meaning, that then they are superstitious. However,
fear is most commonly its principle, always its in-
gredient. For if it enter iirst by credulity and a
weak persuasion, yet it becomes incorporated into the
spirit of the man, and thought necessary, and the ac-
tion it persuades to, dares not be omitted, for fear of
evil themselves dream of; upon this account the sin
is reducible to two heads : the 1. is superstition of an
undue object ; 2. superstition of an undue expression
to a right object.

1. Superstition of an undue object, is that which
the etymologist calls tbi' u^fuKui .reCacr^a, the worshipping
of idols ; the scripture adds ^^w Scuf^mon, a sacrificing
to daemons'\ in St. Paul, and in Baruch ;| w here al-
though we usually read it sacrificing to devils., yet it
Avas but accidental that they were such; for those
indeed were evil spirits w iio had seduced them, and
tempted them to such ungodly rites ; (and yet they
who were of the Pythagorean sect, pretended a
more holy worship, and did their devotion to an-
gels :) but whosoever shall worship angels, do the
same thing; they worshipped them because they are
good and powerful, as the Gentiles did the devils
whom they thought so; and the errour which the

* Eccles. xii. />. \ 1 Cor. x. 20. t Chap, iv, 7.

Serm. IX. op godlit fear. 1C.>

Apostle reproves, was not in matter of judgment, in
mistaking bad angels for good, but in matter of
manners and choice ; they mistook the creature for
the Creator; and therefore it is more fully expressed
by St. Faidr in a general signification; they wor-
shipped the creature., "■«§* tov jtT<er«v7a, besides the Creator.,'^
so it should be read; if we worship any creature
besides God., worshipping so as the worship of him
becomes a part of religion, it is also a direct svper-
stition ; but concerning this part of superstition, I
shall not trouble this discourse, because I know no
Christians blameable in this particular but the church
of Rome., and they that communicate with her in the
worshipping of iaiages, of angels, and saint.-;, burn-
ing lights and perfumes to them, making ofFerin2;s,
confidences, advocations, and vows to them ; and di-
rect and solemn divine worshipping the symbols of
bread and wine, when they are consecrated in the
holy sacrament. These are direct superstition, as
the word is used by all authors profane and sacred,
and are of such evil report, that wherever the word
superstition does signify any thing criminal, these in-
stances must come under the definition of it. They
are ^^ATfiua. t>)c Kna-iax ; A ^*Tgs<oi 5r*/)« tov urta-tivrct, a cultus super-
stitmn, a cultus daemonum; and therefore besides,
that they have iS^^v ixiyx°h a proper reproof in Chris-
tian religion, are condemned by all wise men, which
call superstitioti criminal.

But as it is superstition to worship any thing 5r«g«
TOV KTKntvia, besides the Creator : so it is superstition to
worship (jrod ^«tg* to «u«-;^))^ov, ^^g* to ir^iTrov, TroL^' o S'ti, other-
wise than is decent, proportionable, or described.
Every inordination of rehgion, that is not in defect,
is properly called superstition : o f,.iv ^criC>,; <f,iM ^ia>, i a
fs<«tr*(/^av HOAa^ ^53t/, said Maximus Tyrius, the true wor-

* Rom. i. 25.

166 OF GODLY PEAR. Semi. IX.

shipper is a lover of God, the superstitious man
loves him not, but flatters ; to which if we add, that
fear, unreasonable fear, is also superstition, and an
ingiedient in its definition ; we are taught by this
word to signify all irregularity and inordination in
actions of religion. The sum is this ; the Atheist
called all worship of God superstition ; the Epicurean
called all fear of God superstition, but did not con-
demn his worehip ; the other part of wise men called
all unreasonable fear., and inordinate worship, super'
stition, but did not condemn all fear : but the Chris-
tian, besides this, calls everi^ errour in worship in
the manner., or excess., by this name, and condemns it.

Now because the three great actions of Religion
are, to worship God., to fear God, and to trust in him,
by the inordination oi these three actions, we may
reckon three sorts of this crime ; the excess of fear, and
the obliquity in trust, and the errours in worship, are
the three sorts of superstition : the first of which is
only pertinent to our present consideration.

1. Fear is the duty we owe to God as being the
God of power and justice, the great Judge of heaven
and earth, the avenger of the cause of widows, the
patron of the poor, and the advocate of the op-
pressed, a mighty God and terrible; and so essential
an enemy to sin, that he spared not his own Son, but
gave him over to death, and to become a sacrifice,
when he took upon him our nature, and became a
person obliged for our guilt. Fear is the great bri-
dle of intemperance, the modesty of the spirit, and
the restraint of gayeties and dissolutions; it is the
girdle to the soul, and the hand-maid to repentance,
the arrest of sin, and the cure or antidote to the
spirit of reprobation; it preserves our apprehensions
oi the divine majesty, and hinders our single actions
from combining to sinful habits ; it is the mother of
consideration, and the nurse of sober counsels, and it

Serm. IX. of godly peak. 167

put this soul to fermentation and activity, making it
to pass from trembling to caution, from caution to
carefulness, from carefulness to watchfulness, from
thence to prudence ; and by the gates and progresses
of repentance, it leads the soul on to love, and to fe-
licity, and to joys in God, that shall never cease again.
Fear is the guard of a man in the days of prosperity,
and it stands upon the watch-towers and spies the
approaching danger, and gives warning to them, that
laugh loud, and feast in the chambers of rejoicing,
where a man cannot consider by reason of the noises
of wine, and jest, and musick : and if prudence takes
it by the hand, and leads it on to duty, it is a state of
grace, and an universal instrument to infant religion,
and the only security of the less perfect persons ;
and in all senses is that homage we owe to God, who
sends often to demand it, even then, when he speaks
m thunder, or smites by a plague, or awakens us by
threatenings, or discomposes our easiness by sad
thoughts, and tender eyes, and fearful hearts, and
trembling considerations.

But this so excellent grace is soon abused in the
best and most tender spirits ; in those who are soft-
ened by nature and by religion, by infelicities or
cares, by sudden accidents or a sad soul ; and the
devil observing, that fear like spare diet starves the
fevers of lust, and quenches the flames of hell, en-
deavours to heighten this abstinence so much as to

o ....

starve the man, and break the spnit mto tmiorous-
ness and scruple, sadness and unreasonable trem-
blings, credulity and trifling observation, suspicion
and false accusations of God ; and then vice being
turned out at the gate, returns in at the postern, and
does the work of hell and death by running too in-
considerately in the paths which seem to lead to
heaven. But so have I seen a harmless dove made
dark with an artificial night, and her eyes sealed and

168 OK GODLY FEAR. Semi. IX.

locked up with a little quill, soaring upward and fly-
m<x with amazement, fear, and an undiscernini£ winir ;
sJie made towards heaven, but knew not that she was
made a train and an instrument to teacli her enemy
to prevail upon her and all her defenceless kindred:
so is a superstitious man, zealous and blind, forward
and mistaken, he runs towards heaven as he thinks,
but he chooses foolish paths ; and out of fear takes
any thing that he is told ; or fancies and guesses con-
cerning God by measures taken from his own diseases
and imperfections. But fear, when it is inordinate,
is never a good counsellor, nor makes a good friend ;
and he that fears God as his enemy, is the most com-
pletely miserable person in the world. For if he with
reason believes God to be his enemy, then the man
needs no other argument to prove that he is undone,
than this, that the fountain of blessing (in this
state in which the man is) will never issue any
thing upon him but cursings. But if he fears this
without reason, he makes his fears true by the very
suspicion of God, doing him dishonour, and then
doing those fond and trilling acts of jealousy, which
will make God to be what the man feared he al-
ready Avas. We do not know God, if we can think
any hard thing concerning him. If God be mer-
ciful, let us only fear to olfend him ; but then let
us never be fearful, that he will destroy us, when
we are careful not to displease him. Ihere are
some persons so miserable and scrupulous, such
perpetual tormentoi's ol themselves with unneces-
sary fears, that their meat and drink is a snare to
their consciences ; if they eat, they fear they are
gluttons ; if they fast, they fear they are hypocrites ;
and if they would watch, they complain of sleep as
of a deadly sin; and every temptation, though re-
sisted, makes them cry for pardon; and every re-
turn of such an accident, makes them tliink God

iierm. IX. of godly pear. 169

is angry ; and every anger of God will break them
in pieces.

These persons do not believe noble things con-
cerning God, they do not think that he is as ready
to pardon them, as they are to pardon a sinning ser-
vant; they do not believe how much God delights
in mercy, nor how wise he is to consider and to make
abatement for our unavoidable infirmities; they
make judgment of themselves by the measures of an
angel, and take the account of God by the propor-
tions of a tyrant. The best that can be said con-
cerning such persons is, that they are hugely tempted,
or hugely ignorant. For although ignorance is by
some persons named the mother of devotion : yet if it
falls in a hard ground, it is the mother of atheism ; if
in a soft ground, it is the parent of superstition : but
if it proceeds from evil or mean opinions of God, (as
such scruples and unreasonable fears do many
times,) it is an evil of a great impiety, and, in some
sense, if it were in equal degrees, is as bad as athe-
ism ; for so he that says, there was no such man as
Julius Caesar, does him less displeasure than he that
says there was, but that he was a tyrant, and a
bloody parricide. And the Cimmerians were not
esteemed impious for saying, that there was no sun
in the heavens ; but Anaxagoras was esteemed irre-
ligious for saying, the sun was a very stone : and
though to deny there is a God is a high impiety and
intolerable, yet he says worse, who believing there
is a God, says, he dehghts in human sacrifices, in
miseries and death, in tormenting his servants, and
punishing their very infelicities and unavoidable mis-
chances. To be God, and to be essentially and in-
finitely good, is the same thing, and therefore to deny
either is to be reckoned among the greatest crimes
in the world.

VOL. I. 23

'iTO OF GODLT FEAR. Scrm. IX.

Add to this, that he that is afraid of God cannot
in that disposition love tiim at all ; for what delight
is there in that religion which draws me to the
altar as if I were going to be sacrificed, or to the
temple as to the dens of bears ? Odenint quos metuimt^
sed colimt tumen : whom men fear they hate certain-
ly, and flatter readily, and worship timorously ; and
he that saw Hcnnolcms converse with Alexander ;
and Pausunias follow Philip the Macedonian ; or
Chaereas kissing the feet of Cajus Caligula, would
have observed how sordid men are made Avith fear,
and how unhappy and how hated tyrants are in the
midst of those acclamations, which are loud, and
forced, and unnatural, and without love or fair opi-
nion. And therefore, although the atheist says
there is no God, the scrupulous, fearful, and super-
stitious man does heartily wish what the other does
believe.

But that the evil may be proportionable to the
folly, and the punishment to the crime, there is no
man more miserable in the world, than the man
who fears God as his enemy, and religion as a snare,
and duty intolerable, and the commandments as im-
possible, and his judge as implacable, and his anger
as certain, insufterable, and unavoidable : whither
shall this man go ? where shall he lay his burden ?
where shall he take sanctuary ? for he fears the
altars as the places where his soul bleeds and dies;
and God, who is his Saviour, he looks upon as his
enemy ; and because he is Lord of all, the miserable
man cannot change his service, unless it be appa-
rently ibr a worser. And therefore, of all the evils
of the mind,y!?ar is certainly the worst and the most
intolerable ; levity and rashness have in it some
spritefulness, and greatness of action : anger is va-
liant; desire is busy and apt to hope; credidity is
oftentimes entertained and pleased' with images and

Serm. IX. op godly fear. 171

appearances: but fear is dull, and sluggish, and
treacherous, and flattering, and dissembling, and mi-
serable, and foolish. Every false opinion concerning
God is pernicious and dangerous; but if it be joined
with trouble of spirit, as fear, scruple, or supersti-
tion are, it is like a wound with an indammation, or a
strain of a sinew with a contusion, or contrition of the
part, painful and unsafe; it puts on two actions Avhen
itself is driven ; it urges reason and circumscribes it,
and makes it pitiable, and ridiculous in its consequent
follies ; which, if we consider it, will sufficiently re-
prove the folly, and declare the danger.

Almost all ages of the world have observed many
instances of fond persuasions and foolish practices
proceeding from violent fears and scruples in matter
of religion. Diomedon and many other captains were
condemned to die, because after a great naval victory,
they pursued the flying enemies, and did not first bury
their dead. But Chabrias in the same case first bu-
ried the dead, and by that time the enemy rallied,
and returned and beat his navy, and made his masters
pay the price of their importune superstition ; they
feared where they should not ; and where they did
not, they should. From hence proceeds observation
of signs, and unlucky days ; and the people did so,
when the Gregorian account began, continuing to call
those unlucky days which were so signed in their tra-
dition, ov erra pater, although the day upon this ac-
count fell JO days sooner ; and men were transported
with many other trifling contingencies and little acci-
dents ; which when they are once entertained by
weakness, prevail upon their own strength, and in sad
natures and weak spirits, have produced effects of
great danger and sorrow. Aristodemas, king of the
Alessenians, in his war against the Spartans, prevent-
ed the sword of the enemies by a violence done upon
himself, only because his dogs howled like wolves :

172 o*' coDLir FEAK. Serm. IX.

and the soothsayers were afraid, because the briovy
grew up by the walls of his father's house : and »AV-
cias., General of the Athenian forces, sat with his arms
in his bosom, and sulfered himself and 40,000 men
tamely to fall by the Insolent enemy, only because he
was afraid of the laboinlng and eclipsed moon. When
the marble statues In Rome did sweat, (as naturally
they did against all rainy weather.) the Jivgurcs gave
an alarm to the city; but If lightning struck the spire
of the capitol, they thought the sum of affair s., and
the commonwealth itself, was endangered. And this
heathen folly hath stuck so close to the Christian., that
all the sermons of the church for 1600 years have not
cured them all : but the practices of weaker people
and the artifice of ruling priests have superinduced
many new ones. When pope Kugenius sang mass at
Hheims, and some few drops from the chalice were
spilt upon the pavement, it was thought to foretel
mischief, wars and bloodshed, to all Christendom,
though it was nothing but carelessness and mischance
of the priest : and because Thomas Beckett archbishop
of Canterbury., sang the mass of Requiem, upon the
day he was reconciled to his prince., it was thought
to foretel his own death by that religious office :
and if men can listen to such whispers, and have
not reason and observation enough to confute such
triiles, they shall still be affrighted with the noise of
birds, and every night raven shall foretel evil as
Micaiah to the king of Israel., and every old woman
shall bo a prophetess, and the events of human af-
fairs, which should be managed by the conduct of
counsel, of reason, and religion, shall succeed by
cliance, by the [light of birds, and the meeting
with an evil eye, by the falling of the salt, or the
decay of reason, of wisdom, and the just religion of a
man.

Serm. IX. of godly fear. 1 73

To this may be reduced the observation of dreams,
and fears commenced from the fancies of the night.
I'or the superstitious man does not rest, even when
he sleeps ; neither is he safe because dreams usuall) are
false, but he is afflicted for fear they should tell tiue.
Living and waking men have one w^orld in comuion,
thev use the same air and lire, and discourse by the
same principles of logick and reason ; but men that are
asleep have ever}^ one a world to himself, and strange
perceptions ; and the superstitious hath none at all ;
his reason sleeps, and his fears are waking, and all
his rest, and his very securities, to the fearful man
turn into affrights and insecure expectations of evils,
that never shall happen ; they make their rest uneasy
and chargeable, and they still vex their w eary soul,
not considering there is no other sleep, for sleep to
rest in : and therefore if the sleep be troublesome,
the man's cares be without remedy till they be quite
destroyed. Dreams follow the temper of the body,
and commonly proceed from trouble or disease, bu-
siness or care, an active head and a restless pilnd,
from fear or hope, from wine or passion, from fulness
or emptiness, from fantastlck remembrances or from
some daemon good or bad: they are without rule and
without reason ; they are as contingent, as if a man
should study to make a prophecy, and by saying ten
thousand things may hit upon one true, which was
therefore not foreknown, though it w as forespoken :
and they have no certainty, because they have no
natural casualty nor proportion to those effects, which
many tmies they are said to foresignlfy. The dream
of the yolk of an egg importeth gold, (saith Artemi-
dorus,) and they that use to remember such fantas-
tlck idols, are afraid to lose a friend, when they
dream their teeth shake ; when naturallv it will rather
signiiy a scurvy; for a natural indisposition and an
imperfect sense of the beginning of a disease, may

174 OF GODLV FEAR. Scrm. IX.

vex the fancy into a symbolical representation ; for
so the man that dreamt he swam against the stream
of blood, had a pleurisy beginning in his side : and
he that dreamt he dipt his foot nito water, and that
it was turned to a marble, was enticed into the fancy
by a beginning dropsy : and if the events do answer
in one instance, we become credulous in twenty.
For want of reason we discourse ourselves into lolly
and weak observation, and give the devil power over
us in those circumstances in which we can least re-
sist him. Ev ofp^iyj ^gtTTirrt; (xr^^v^wu'* tt ikief IS Confident in
the tivilight : if jou suffer impressions to be made
upon you by dreams, the devil hath the reins in his
own hands, and can tempt you by that, which will
abuse you when you can make no resistance. Domi'
nica., the wife of Valens the emperour, dreamt that
God threatened to take away her only son for her
despightful usage of St. Bazil ; the fear proceeding
from this instance was safe and fortunate ; but if
she had dreamt in the behalf of a heretick, she
might have been cozened into a false proposition
upon a ground weaker than the discourse of a
■waking child. Let the grounds of our actions be
noble, beginning upon reason, proceeding with pru-
dence, measured by the common lines of men, and
confident upon the expectation of an usual provi-
dence. Let us proceed from causes to effects, from
natural means to ordinary events, and believe feli-
city not to be a chance but a choice ; and evil to be
the daughter o{ sin and the divine anger., not of /or-
tune and fancy ; let us fear God, when we have
made him angry ; and not be afraid of him, when
we heartily and laboriously do our duty; our fears
are to be measured by open revelation and certain
experience, by the threatenings of God and the say-

"* Ell rip.

Serm. IX. of godly fear. 175

ings of wise men, and their liinit is reverence^ and
godliness is their end; and then fear sliall be a dutj,
and a rare instrument of many : in all other cases it
is superstition or folly, it is sin or punishment, the
ivy of religion and the misery of an honest and a
weak heart; and is to be cured only by reason and
good company, a wise guide and a plain rule, a
cheerful spirit and a contented mind, by joy in
God according to the commandments ; that is, a re-
joicing evermore.

2. But besides this superstitious fear, there is
another fear directly criminal, and it is called worldly
fear., of which the Spirit of God hath said, but the
fearful and incredulous shall have their part in the
lake that burneth with fire and brimstone., which is the
second death;* that is, such fears, which make men
to fall in the time of persecution, those that dare not
own their faith in the face of a tyrant, or in despite
of an accursed law. For though it be lawful to be
afraid in a storm, yet it is not lawful to leap into the
sea ; though we may be more careful for our fears,
yet we must be faithful too ; and we may fly from the
persecution, till it overtakes us, but when it does, we
must not change our rehgion for our safety, or leave
the robe of baptism in the hand of the tempter, and
run away by all means. St. Athanasius for 46 years
did run and fight, he disputed with the Arians and
fled from their oflicers; and he that flies, may be a
man worth preserving, if he bears his faith along
with him, and leaves nothing of his duty behind.
But when duty and life cannot stand together, he
that then flies a persecution by delivering up his soul,
is one that hath no charity, no love to God, no trust
in promises, no just estimation of the rewards of a
noble contention. Perfect love casts out fear., (saith

* Rev. xxi. 8.

176 OF GODLY FEAR. Scvm. IX.

the Apostle,) that is, he that loves God will not fear
to die for him, or for his sake to he poor. In this
sense, no man can fear man, and love God at the
same time; and wlien St. Laurence triumphed over
ValerianKS, St. Sehmtian over Dioclesiun., St. Vin-
cent ius over Dacianus., and the armies of martyrs
over the proconsuls, accuseis, and executioners, they
showed their love to God hj triumphing over fear,
and leading captivity captive, by the strength of their
Captain, who^e garments icere red from Bozrah.

3. But this fear is also tremulous and criminal,
if it be a trouble from the apprehension of the
mountains and difficulties of duty, and is called jm-
sillanimity. For some see themselves encompassed
with temptations, tliey observe their frequent falls,
their perpetual returns from good purposes to weak
performances, the daily mortifications that are ne-
cessary, the resisting natural appetites, and the lay-
ing violent hands upon the desires of flesh and
blood, the uneasiness of their spirits, and their hard
labours, and therefore this makes them afraid; and
because they despair to run throua:h the Avhole duty
in all its parts and periods, they think as good not
to begin at all, as after labour and expense to lose
the jewel and the charges of their venture. St.
Austin compares such men to children and fantas-
tick persons affrighted with phantasms and spec-
tres; tcrrihiles visu formae, the sight seems full of
hori-our, but touch them and they are very nothings
the mere daughters of a sick brain and a weak heart,,
an infint experience and a triliing judgment: so
are the illusions of a weak piety, or an unskilful
confident soul ; they fancy to see mountains of dif-
ficultv, but touch them, and they seem like clouds
riding upon the wings of the wind, and put on
shapes as we please to dream. He that denies to
give alms for fear of being poor, or to entertain a

S^rm. IX. OF GODj.T fkab. ITT

disciple for fear of being suspected of the party, or
to own a duty for fear of being put to venture for
a crown ; he that takes part of the intemperance
because he dares not displease the company, or in
any sense fears the fears of the world, and not the
fear of God, this man enters into his portion of fear
betimes, but it will not be finished to eternal ages.
To fear the censures of men, when God is your
Judge; to fear their evil, when God is your defence;
to fear death, when he is the entrance to life and
felicity, is unreasonable and pernicious ; but if you
will turn your passion into duty and joy, and se-
curity, fear to orfend God, to enter voluntarily into
temptation, fear the alluring face of lust, and the
smooth entertainments of intemperance, fear the
anger of God, when you have deserved it; and when
you have recovered from the snare, then infinitely
fear to return into that condition, in which whoso-
ever dwells is the heir of fear and eternal sorrow.

Thus far I have discoursed concerning good fear
and bad ; that is, filial and servile ; they are both
good, if by servile we intend initial or the new begin-
ning fear of penitents ; a fear to offend God upon
less perfect considerations : but servile fear is vicious
when it still retains the affection of slaves, and when
its effects are hatred, weariness, displeasure, and
want of charity : and of the same cognations are
those fears which are superstitious and worldly.

But to the former sort of virtuous fear, some also
add another, which they call angelical ; that is, such
a fear as the blessed angels have, who before God
hide their faces, and tremble at his presence, and fall
down before his footstool, and are ministers of his
anger, and messengers of his mercy, and night and
day worship him with the profoundest adoration.
This is the same that is spoken of in the text : Let
us serve God with reverence and godly fear. All

VOL. I. 24

178 OP eoDLY FEAR. iScrm. IX,

holy fear partakes of the nature of this, which di-
vines call angelical, and it is expressed in acts of
adoration, of vows, and holy prayers, in hymns, and
psalms, in the cucharist and reverential addresses;
and while it proceeds in the usual measures of com-
mon duty, it is but humane ; but as it arises to
great degrees, and to perfection, it is angelical and
divine; and then it appertains to mysticlc theology,
and therefore is to be considered in another place ;
but for the present, that which will regularly concern
all our duty, is this, that when the fear of God is
the instrument of our duty, or God's worship, the
greater it is, it is so much the better. It was an
old proverbial saying among the Romans, religentem
esse, oportct ; reUgiosum, nefas ;* every excess in the
actions of religion is criminal ; they supposing that in
the services of their gods there might be too
much. True it is, there may be too much of their
indecent expressions, and in things indiiferent the
very multitude is too much, and becomes an inde-
cency : and if it be in its own nature indecent
or disproportionable to the end, or the rules, or the
analogy of the religion, it will not stay for numbers
to make it intolerable ; but in the direct actions
of glorifying God, in doing any thing of his com-
mandments, or any thing which he commands, or
counsels, or promises to reward, there can nevei' be
excess or superliuity : and therefore, in these cases,
do as much as you can ; take care that your ex-
pressions be prudent and safe, consisting with thy
other duties ; and for the passions or virtues them
selves, let them pass from beginning to great pro-
gresses, from man to angel, from the impeilec-
tion of man to the periections of the sons of
God; and whenever we go beyond the bounds of
nature, and grow up with all the extension, and in

* To be religious is a virtue ; to be superstitious, a crime.

Serm. IX. of godly fear. 179

the very commensuration of a full grace, we shall
never go beyond the excellencies of God : for orna-
ment may be too much and turn to curiosity : clean-
liness may be changed into niceness ; and civil com-
pliance may become flattery ; and mobility of tongue
may rise into garrulity ; and fame and honour may
be great unto envy; and health itself, if it be ath-
letick, may by its very excess become dangerous :
but wisdom, and duty, and comeliness, and disci-

Eline, a good mind, and the fear of God, and doing
onour to his holy name, can never exceed : but if
they swell to great proportions, they pass through
the measures of grace, and are united to felicity in
the comprehensions of God, in the joys of an eter-
nal glory.

SERMON X.

THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT.

PART I.

Mat. xxvi. 41. latter part.
The Spirit indeed is willing, but the Flesh is weak.

From the beginning of days man hath been so
cross to the divine commandments, that in many
cases there can be no reason given why a man should
choose some w^ays or do some actions, but only be-
cause they are forbidden. When God bade the Is-
raelites rise and go up against the Canaanites and
possess the land, they would not stir ; the men were
j^nakims, and the cities were impregnable ; and there
was a lion in the way : but presently after, when God
forbade them to go, they w^ould and did go, though
they died for it. I shall not need to instance in par-
ticulars, when the whole life of man is a perpetual
contradiction ; and the state of disobedience is called
the contradiction of sinners ; even the man in the Gos-
pel, that had two sons, they both crossed him, even
he that obeyed him, and he that obeyed him not:
for the one said, he would, and did not; the other
said, he would not, and did: and so do we; w^e
promise fair, and do notiiing; and they that do best,

iSferm. X. the flesh and the spirit. 181

are such as come out of darkness Into light, such as
said they would not, and at last have better bethought
themselves. And who can guess at any other reason,
why men should refuse to be temperate ? for he that
refuseth the commandment, first does violence to
the commandment, and puts on a preternatural ap-
petite ; he spoils his health and he spoils his under-
standing ; he brings to himself a world of diseases
and a healthless constitution ; smart and sickly
nights, a loathing stomach and a staring eye, a
giddy brain, and a swelled belly, gouts and dropsies ;
catarrhs and oppilations. If God should enjoin
men to suffer all this, heaven and earth should have
heard our complaints against unjust laws, and impos-
sible commandments : for we complain already, even
when God commands us to drink so long as it is
good for us : this is one of the impossible laws ; it is
impossible for us to know when we are dry, or when
we need drink ; for if we do know, I am sure it is
possible enough, not to lift up the wine to our heads.
And when our blessed Saviour hath commanded us
to love our enemies, we think we have so much
reason against it, that God will easily excuse our
disobedience in this case ; and yet there are some
enemies, whom God hath commanded us not to love,
and those we dote on, we cherish and feast them ;
and as St. Paul in another case, upon our uncomely
parts we bestow more abundant comeliness. For where-
as our body itself is a servant to our soul, we make
it the heir of all things, and treat it here already, as
if it were in majority ; and make that, which at the
best was but a weak friend, to become a strong ene-
my ; and hence proceed the vices of the worst, and
the follies and imperfections of the best: the spirit is
either in slavery, or in weakness, and when the flesh
is not strong to mischief, it is weak to goodness; and

182 THE FLESH AND THE SPIRI1!. Sci'm. X.

even to the Apostles our blessed Lord said, the spirit
is willinif^ but the flesh is weak.

The Spirit] that is, « ara, ^vSrpa^o^, the imrard man., or
the reasonable part of man, especially as helped by
the spirit of grace, that is willing ; for it is tlie prin-
ciple of all good actions, the 6v«g>).T/jto^ the power of
working is from the spirit ; but the flesh is but a dull
instrument, and a broken arm, in which there is a
piinciple of life, but it moves uneasily ; and the flesh
IS so weak, that in scripture, to be in the flesh, signi-
fies a state of weakness and infirmity; so the humi-
liation of Christ is expressed by being i?i the Jlesh,
9-so? 9*v>'g*95/c fv (ru^Ki, God manifested in thejiesh ; and what
St. Peter calls [put to death in thejiesh.] St. Paid calls
[crticijled through weakness ;] and, ye know that through
the infirmity of the fiesh I preached unto you, said St.
Paul: but here, fiesh is not opposed to the spirit as a
direct enemy, but as a weak servant : for if the flesh be
powerful and opposite, the spirit stays not there :

venimit ad Candida tecta columbae :*

The old man and the neiv cannot dwell together; and
therefore /^ere, wdiore the spirit inclining to good, well
disposed, and apt to holy counsels, does inhabit in
society with the flesh, it means only a weak and un-
apt nature, or a state of infant-grace ; for in both
these, and in these only, the text is verilied.

1. Therefore we are to consider the infirmities of
the flesh naturally. 2. Its weakness in the first be-
ginnings of the state of grace, its daily pretensions
and temptations, its excuses and lessenings of duty.
3. What remedies there are in the spirit to cure the
evils of nature. 4. How far the weakness of the flesh
can consist with the spirit of grace in well-grown
Christians : this is the sum of what I intend upon
tliese words.

* For fair abodes alliiro the gentle Dove.

Serm. X. the flesh and the spirit. 183

1. Our nature is too weak in order to our duty and
final interest, that at first it cannot move one step to-
wards God, unless God by his preventing grace puts
into it a new possibihty.

'OuSiv oLKtSvonpov ystist r^tiftt avQ-^coxoK

There is nothing that creeps upon the earth, nothing
that ever God made, weaker than man ; for God iitied
horses and mules with strength, bees and pismires
with sagacity, harts and hares with swiftness, birds
with feathers and a light airy body ; and they all know
their times, and are fitted for their work, and regu-
larly acquire the properend of their creation ; but nmn,
that was designed to an immortal duration, and the
fruition of God for ever, knows not how to obtain it; he
is made upright to look up to heaven, but he knows
no more how to purchase it than to climb it. Once,
man went to make an ambitious tower to outreach the
clouds, or the preternatural risings of the water, but
could not do it; he cannot promise himself the daily
bread of his necessity upon the stock of his own
wit or industry ; and for going to heaven, he was so
far from doing that naturally, that as soon as ever
he was made he became the son of death, and he
knew not how to get a pardon for eating of an ap-
ple against the divine commandment : «** jf^sv <i>i/«<
Tatvn o^yiK, said the Apostle ; by nature we are the sons
of wrath j"^ that is, we were born heirs of death,
which death came upon us from God's anger for the
sin of our first parents, or by nature ; that is, ovTOf.
AKt>6a,;, really, not by the help of fancy, and fiction of
law, for so Oecumenius and Theophylact expound it ;
but because it does not relate to the sin of Adam in
its first intention, but to the evil state of sin, \\\

* Ephes. ii. 23.

184 THE FLESH AND »HB SPIRIT. Senn. X.

which the Ephcsians walked before their conversion ;
it signifies, that our ?iature of itself is a state of oppo-
sition to the spirit of grace ; it is privately opposed,
that is, that there is nothing in it that can bring us to
felicity ; nothing but aw obediential capacity ; our flesh
can become sanctified, as the stones can become children
unto Mraham^ or as dead seed can become living
corn ; and so it is with us, that it is necessary God
should make us a new creation, if he means to save
us ; he must take our hearts of stone away, and give
us hearts of flesh ; he must purge the old leaven, and
make us a new consperslon ; he must destroy the
flesh, and must breathe into us spiritum vitae, the ce-
lestial breath oi life, without which we can neither
live, nor move, nor have our being. JVo man can
come unto me (said Christ,) unless my Father draw him ;

o-iA^oua-i ^£;t?'^ *» "^o m&ov/uivov tfaxrt. TllC dlviuC loVC mUSt

come upon us and snatch us from our imperfection,
enlighten our understanding, move and stir our af-
fections, open the gates of heaven, turn our nature
to grace, entirely forgive our former prevarications,
take us by the hand, and lead us along ; and we only
contribute our assent unto it, just as a child when he
is tempted to learn to go, and called upon and guided,
and upheld, and constrained to put his feet to the
ground, lest he feel the danger by the smart of a fall ;
just so is our nature and our state of flesh. God
teaches us and invites us, he makes us willing and
then makes us able, he lends us helps, and guides
our hands and feet ; and all the way constrains us,
but yet so as a reasonable creature can be constrain-
ed ; that is, made willing with arguments, and new
inducements, by a state of circumstances, and condi-
tional necessities : and as this is a great glorification
of the free grace of God, and declares our manner of

Sirm. X. THE FLESH and the spirit. 185

co-operation, so it represents our nature to be weak
as a child, ignorant as infancy, helpless as an orphan,
averse as an uninstructed person, in so great degrees
that God is forced to bring us to an holy life by arts
great and many as the poAver and principles of the
creation ; with this only dilference, that the sub-
ject matter and object of this new creation is
a free agent ; in the first it was purely obedi-
ential and passive ; and as the passion of the first
was an effect of the same power that reduced it
to act, so the freedom of the second is given us in our
nature by him that only can reduce it to act ; for it is
a freedom that cannot therefore choose, because it
does not understand, nor taste, nor perceive the
things of God ; and therefore must by God's grace
be reduced to action, as at first the whole matter of
the world was by God's almightiness ; for so God
worketh in us to will and to do of his own good pleasure.
But that I may instance in particulars : — Our natural
weakness appears best in two things, even in the two
great instances of temptations, pleasure and pain ; in
both which the flesh is destroyed if it be not helped
by a mighty grace, a^r certainly as the canes do bow
their heads before the breath of a mighty wind.

1. In pleasure we see it by the publick miseries
and follies of the world. An old Greek said well,

'civ ovS'iy ctTf^vceg vytH io-tiv, olkkci uti tou Ksptfiuc ^TretvTtc UTio'/t;. i- HCre-

is amongst men nothing perfect, because men carry
themselves as persons that are less than money, ser-
vants of gain and interest; we are like the foolish
Poet that Horace tells of:

Gestit eniin nummuni in loculos dimittere, posthac
Securus, cadat, an recto stet I'abula talo.*

* For gold was all their aim, and then the play
Might stand or fall — indifferent were they.

FRANCIS.

VOL. I. 2f)

^•>t> THt FLISH AND THE SPIRIT. Sevm. X.

Let Iiini but have money for rehearsing his comedy,
he cares not whether you Hke it or no; and if a
temptation of money comes strong and violent, you
may as well tie a wild c/og to quietness with the guts of
a tender kid^ as suppose that most men can do. virtu-
ously, when they may sin at a great })rice. Men avoid
poverty, not only because it hath some inconve-
niences; for they are few and little ; but because it
IS the nurse of virtue; they run from it as children
irom strict parents and tutors, from those that would
confine them to reason, and sober counsels, that would
make them labour, that they may become pale and
lean, that they may become wise : but because riches
are attended by pride and lust, tyranny and oppression,
and hath in its hand all that it hath in its heart, and
sin waits upon wealth ready dressed and fit for ac-
tion ; therefore in some temptations (hey confess,
how little their souls are, they cannot stand that
assault; but because this passion is the daughter of
voluptuousness, and very often is but a servant sin,
ministering to sensual pleasures, the great weakness
of tie flesh is more seen in the matter of carnal
crimes, lust and drunkenness. Js'emo enim se adsuefacit
ad vitandum et ex anim^o evellendum ea., quae molesta ei
non sunt. Men are so in love with pleasure, that they
cannot think of mortifying or crucifying their lust; we
do violence to what we hate, not to what we love.
But i\\Q weakness of the flesh, and the em})ire of
lust, is visible in nothing so much, as in the caj)tivity
and folly of wise men. For you shall see some men
fit to govern a province, sober in their counsels, wise
in the conduct of their affairs, men of discourse and
reason, fit to sit with princes, or to treat concerning
peace and war, tlie fate of empires and the changes
of the world ; yet these men shall fall at the beauty
of a woman, as a man dies at the blow of an angel, or
gives up his bieath at die sentence aijd decree of
ftod. Was not Solomon glorious in all things but

Serm. X. the ft.esh and the spirit. 18?

when he bowed to PharaoK's dauf]:hter, and then to
devils ? and is it not published by ilie sentence and
observation of all the world, that the bravest men
have been softened into effeminacy by the lisping
charms, and childish noises of women and imper-
fect persons ? a fair slave bowed the neck of stout
Pohjdamas^ which was stiff and indexible to the
contentions of an enemy ; and suppose a man set
like the brave boy of the king of JVicomedia in the
midst of temptation by a witty beauty, tied upon
a bed with silk and pretty violences, courted with
musick and perfumes, with promises and easy pos-
tures, invited by opportunity and importunity, by
rewards and impunity, by privacy and a guard ;
what would his nature do in this throng of evils and
vile circumstances ? the 2:1 ace of God secured the
young gentleman, and the spirit rode m triumph;
but what can Jiesh do in such a day of danger r is
it not necessary, that we take in auxiharies from
reason and religion, from heaven and earth, from
observation and experience, from hope and fear,
and cease to be what we are, lest we become what
we ouo;ht not? It is certain that in the cases of
temptations to voluptuousness, a man is naturally,
as the prophet said of Ephraim, like a pigeon that
hath no heart, no courage, no conduct, no resolu-
tion, no discourse, but falls as the water of JViliis
when it comes to its cataracts, it falls infinitely and
without restraint: and if we consider, how many
drunken meetings the sun sees every day, how
many markets, and fairs and clubs, that is, so many
solemnities of drunkenness are at this instant under
the eye of heaven, that many nations are marked for
intemperance, and that it is less noted because it is
so popular and universal, and that even in the midst
of the glories of Christianity, there are so many per-
sons drunk, or too full with meat, or greedy of lust :

188 THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT. Semt. X.

even now that the spirit of God is given to us to
make us sober, and temperate, and chaste, we may
well imagine, since all men have flesh, and all men
have not the spirit, the flesh is the parent of sin and
death, and it can be nothing else.

2. And it is no otherwise, when we are tempted
with pain. We are so impatient of pain, that noth-
ing can reconcile us to it ; not the laws of God, not
the necessities of nature, not the society of all our
kindred, and of all the world, not the interest of vir-
tue, not the hopes of heaven ; we will submit to pain
upon no terms, but the basest and most dishonoura-
ble ,• for if sin bring us to pain, or afiront, or sickness,
we choose that, so it be in the retinue of a lust, and
a base desire ; but we accuse nature, and blas-
pheme God, we murmur and are impatient, when
pain is sent to us from him, that ought to send it, and
mtends it as a mercy, when it comes. But in the
matter of affiictions and bodily sickness, we are so
weak and broken, so uneasy and unapt to sufferance,
that this alone is beyond the cure of the old philoso-
phy. Many can endure poverty, and many can retire
from shame and laugh at home, and very many can
endure to be slaves; but when pain and sharpness
are to be endured for the interests of virtue, we find
but few Uiartyrs; and tlicy that aie, suffer more
within themselves by their fears and their tempta-
tions, by their unceitain purposes and violence to
nature, than the hangman's sword ; the martyrdom
is within; and then he hath won his crown, not when
he hath suff*ered the blow, but when he hath over-
come his fears, and made his spirit conquerour. It was
a sad instance of our infirmity, when of the forty
martyrs of Cappudocia set in a freezing lake, almost
consummate, and an angel was reaching the crown,
and placing it upon their brows, the flesh failed one
of them, and drew the spirit after it ; and the man was

i^erm. X. the flesh and the spirit. 189

called off from his scene of noble contention, and died
in warm water:

Odi artus, fragilemquc hunc corporis usum

Desertorem animi .*

We carry about us the body of death, and we bring
evils upon ourselves by our follies, and then know not
how to bear them; and the flesh forsakes the spirit.
And indeed in sickness the infirmity is so very great,
that God in a manner at that time hath reduced all
religion into one virtue; patience with its appendages
is the sum total of almost all our duty, that is proper
to the days of sorrow : and we shall find it enough to
entertain all our powers, and to employ all our aids ;
the counsels of wise men and the comforts of our
friends, the advices of scripture and the results of ex-
perience, the graces of God and the strength of our
own resolutions, are all then full of employments, and
find it work enou2fh to secure that one o-race. For
then it is, that a cloud is wrapped about our heads,
and our reason stoops under sorrow ; the soul is sad,
and its instrument is out of tune, the auxiliaries are
disordered, and every tliought sits heavily; then a
comfort cannot make the body feel it, and the soul
is not so abstracted to rejoice much without its part-
ner; so that the proper joys of the soul, such as
are hope, and wise discourses, and satisfactions of
reason, and the offices of religion, are felt, just as
we now perceive the joys of heaven, with so little
relish, that it comes as news of a victory to a man
upon the rack, or the birth of an heir to one con-
demned to die ; he hears a story, which was made
to delight him, but it came when he was dead to
joy and in all its capacities ; and therefore sickness,

* This feeble frame I scorn, it seconds ill
The Mind's high purposes and great resolves.

190 THE FLESH AND 'PHE SPIRIT. ScTm. X

though it be a good monitor, yet it is an ill stage to
act some virtues in ; and a good man cannot then
do much, and therefore he that is in the state of flesh
and blood, can do nothing at all.

But in these considerations we find our nature in
disadvantages; and a strong man may be overcome
when a stronger comes to disarm him ; and pleasure
and pain are the violences of choice and chance ;
but it is no better in any tiling else : for nature is
weak in all its strengths, and in its fights, at home
and abroad, in its actions and passions ; we love
souie things violently, and hate others unreason-
ably ; any thing can fright us when we would be
confident, and nothing can scare us when we ought
to fear; the breaking of a glass puts us into a su-
preme anger, and we are dull and indifferent as a
Stoick when we see God dishonoured; we passion-
ately desire our preservation, and yet we violently
destroy ourselves, and will not be hindered ; we can-
not deny a friend when he tempts us to sin and
death, and yet we daily deny God when he passion-
ately invites us to life and health; we are greedy
after money, and yet spend it vainly upon our lusts;
yve hate to see any man flattered but ourselves,
and we can endure follv if it be on our side, and
a sin for our interest; we desire health, and yet we
exchange it for wine and madness ; we sink when a
persecution comes, and yet cease not daily to perse-
jcute ourselves, doing mischiefs worse than the sword
of tyrants, and great as the malice of a devil.

Butto sum up all the evils that can be spoken of
the infirmities of the flesh ; the proper nature and
habitudes of men are so foolish and impotent, so
averse and peevish to all good, that a man's will is
of itself only free to choose evils. Neither is it a
contradiction to say liberty, and yet suppose it deter-
'fnined to one object only ; because that one object is the

Serm. X. the flesh and the spirit. Wt

thing we choose. For, although God hath set life
and death before us, fire and water, good and evil,
and hath primarily put man into tlie hands of his own
counsel, that he might have chosen good as well as
evil ; jet, because he did not, but fell into an evil con-
dition and corrupted manners, and grew in love with
it, and infected all his children with vicious examples;
and all nations of the world have contracted some
universal stains, and the thoughts ofmen^s hearts are
only evil^ and that continually^ and there is not one that
doth good, no, not one that sinneth not : since, I say,
all the world have sinned, we cannot suppose a liberty
of indifferency to good and bad ; it is impossible m
such a liberty, that there should be no variety, that
all should choose the same thing; but a liberty of com-
placency, or delight we may suppose ; that is so, that
though naturally he might choose good, yet morally
he is so determined with his love to evil, that good
seldom comes into dispute ; and a man runs to evil a&
he runs to meat or sleep ; for why else should it be,
that every one can teach a child to be prOud, or to
swear, to lie, or to do little spites to his play-fellow^
and can train him up to infant follies ? but the se-
verity of tutors, and the care of parents, discipline
and watchfulness, arts and diligence, all is too little
to make him love but to say his prayers, or to do
that, which becomes persons designed for honest
purposes, and his malice shall out-run his years ; he
shall be a man in villainy before he is by law capable
of choice or inheritance ; and this indisposition lasts
upon us for ever; even as long as we live, just.
in the same deofrees as flesh and blood do rule us •

'SaijUATO^ jUiv yttf a^pao-T/aty tATeU Ti^vn, 4'^;^nc (Tt vacrxfj-tt Iclt^o; laTo.t Q'a.vctTCf

art of physicians can cure the evils of the body, but
this strange propensity to evil, nothing can cure but.
death ; the grace of God eases the mahVnity here,
but it cannot be cured but by glory : that is- this free-

192 THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT. /SVrm. X,

dom of delight or perfect unabated election of evil,
which is consequent to the evil manners of the world,
although it be lessened by tiic Internfiedial state of
grace, jet it is not cured until it be changed into its
quite contrary; but as it is in heaven, all that is hap-
py, and glorious, and free, yet can choose nothing but
the love of God, and excellent things, because God
fills all the capacities of saints, and there is nothing
without him that hath any degrees of amiability :
so in tJie state of nature, of flesh and blood, there is
so much ignorance of spiritual excellencies, and so
mucli proportion to sensual objects, which in most
instances and in many degrees are prohibited, that as
men naturally Imow no good, but to please a wild,
indetermined, infinite appetite, so they will nothing
else but what is good in their limit and proportion;
and it is with us as it was WMth the she-goat that
suckled the wolf's whelp; he grew up by his nurse's
milk, and at last having forgot his foster mother's
kindness, ate that udder which gave him drink and
nourishment,

Improbitas niillo flectitur obsequio;

For no kindness will cure an ill nature and a base dis-
position : so are we in the first constitution of our
nature ; so perfectly given to natural vices, that by
degrees we degenerate into unnatural, and no edu-
cation or power of art can make us choose wisely or
honestly : '£>* S"* y-nt-v fuyivnuv oiS'a. T)iv rtgsTw, said rhalariSf
there is no i(Ood nature but onlij virtue ; till we are new
created, we are wolves and serpents, free and de-
liirhted in the choice of evil, but stones and iron to
ail excellent things and purposes.

2. Next I am to consider the weakness of the
flesh, even when the state is changed, in the begin-
ning;- of tlie state of grace : for many persons, as soon
as the grace of God rises in their hearts, are all on

iScnn. X. THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT. 193

fire, and inflamed ; it is with them as Homer said of
the Syria/I star :

ActfA-rpoToLTo; f^ivoy* ityrt, kmkov it to tryt/xa. Tirvicrui,

Kctt Tt fligil TTOKKOV TtUgiTOV ^ilMliTt jigiTOld-l-*

It shines finely, and brings fevers ; splendour and zeal
are the effects of the first grace, and sometimes the
first turns into pride^ and the sccotid into unchari-
tableness ; and either bj too dull and slow motions,
or by too violent and unequal, the flesh will make
pretences, and too often prevail upon the spirit, even
after the grace of God hath set up its banners in our
hearts.

1. In some dispositions that are forward and apt,
busy and unquiet, when the grace of God hath taken
possessions, and begins to give laws, it seems so
pleasant and gay to their undiscerning spirits, to be
delivered from the sottishness of lust, and the follies
of drunkenness, that reflecting upon the change,
they begin to love themselves too well, and take de-
light in the wisdom of the change, and the reason-
ableness of the new life ; and then they hating their
own follies, begin to despise them that dwell below;
it was the trick of the old philosophers whom Aristo-

phcmeS tUM'Si describes, *Xitifoyais'Toyi;a);^giWTac, Toyj oiwraiinw; xs>£<cj

pale, and barefoot, and proud ; that is, persons
singular in their habit, eminent in their institution,
proud and pleased in their persons, and despisers of
them that are less glorious in their virtue than them-
selves ; and for this very thing our blessed Saviour

* Rises to the sight.

Through the thick gloom of some tempestuous nighty

Orion's Dog (the year when Autumn weighs)

And o'er the feebler stars exerts his rays.

Terrifick Glory ! for his burning breath

Taints the red air with fevers, plagues and death. Pope.

VOL. I. 26

194 THE FLBBH AND THE SPIRIT. Semi. X.

remarks the Pharisees.^ they were severe and fantas-
tical advancers of themselves, and judgers of their
neighbours ; and here, when they have mortified
corporal vices, such which are scandalous and
punishable by men, that keep the spijitual, and those
that are only discernible by God, these men do but
change their sin from scandal to danger, and that
they may sin more safely they sin more spiritually.

2. Sometimes the passions of the flesh spoil the
changes of the spirit, by natural excesses, and dis-
proportion of degrees ; it mingles violence with in-
dustry, and fury Avith zeal, and uncharitableness with
reproof, and censuring with discipline, and violence
with desires, and immortifications in all the appetites
and prosecutions of the soul. Some think it is enough,
in all instances, if they pray hugely and fervently;
and that it is religion, impatiently to desire a victory
over our enemies, or the life of a child, or an heir to
be born ; they call it ho/y^ so they desire it in prayer;
that if they reprove a vicious person, they may say
what they list, and be as angry as they please : that
when they demand but reason, they may enforce it
by all means ; that when they exact duty of their chil-
dren, they may be imperious and without limit; that
if they design a good end, they may prosecute it by
all instruments ; that when they give God thanks for
blessings, they may value the thing as high as they
list, though their persons come into a share of the
honour; here the spirit is ivilUng and holy^ but the
flesh creeps too busily, and insinuates into the sub-
stance of good actions, and spoils them by unhand-
some circumstances ; and then the prayer is spoiled
for want of prudence or conformity to God's will,
and discipline and government is embittered by an
angry spirit; and the father's authority turns into
an uneasy load, by being thrust like an unequal bur-
den to one side, without allowing equal measures to

S^rm. X. THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT. 195

the other : and if we consider It wisely, we shall find,
that in many good actions the flesh is the bigger in-
gredient, and we betray our weak constitutions, even
when we do justice, or charity, and many men pray in
the flesh, when they pretend they pray by the spirit.

3. In the first changes and weak progresses of our
spiritual life, we find a long weakness upon us, be-
cause we are lono; before we be2:in, and the flesh was
powerful, and its habits strong, and it w^ill mingle in-
direct pretences with all the actions of the spirit ;
if we mean to pray, the flesh thrusts in thoughts
of the world, and our tongue speaks one thing, and
our heart means another; and we are hardly brought
to say our prayers, or to undertake a fasting-day, or to
celebrate a communion ; and if we remember that all
these are holy actions, and that we have many oppor-
tunities of doing them all, and yet do them very sel-
dom and then very coldly, it will be found at the foot
of the account, that our flesh and our natural weak-
ness prevail oftener than our spiritual strengths :

they that are bound long in chains feel such a lame-
ness in the tirst restitutions of their liberty, Ctto n; w-
xvxe!>nou Tw tfscr^w trvrSim, by reasou of the long accustom-
ed chain and pressure, that they must stay till nature
hath set them free, and the disease be taken otf as
well as the chain ; and when the soul is got free from
her actual pressure of sins, still the wound remains,
and a long habitude, and longing after it, a looking
back, and upon presenting the old object, the same
company, or the remembrance of the delight, the
fancy strikes, and the heart fails, and the temptations
return and stand dressed in form and circumstances,
and ten to one but the man dies again.

4. Some men are wise and know their weaknesses,
and to prevent their startings back, will make fierce
and strong resolutions, and bind up their gaps with

196 THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT. Semi. X.

thorns, and make a new hedge about their spirits;
and what then ? This shows indeed, that the spirit is
ivilUniy; ; but tlie storm arises, and winds .blow, and
rain descends, and presently the earth trembles, and
the whole fabrick fells into ruin and disorder. A re-
solution (such as we usually make) is nothing but a
little trench, which every child can step over, and
there is no civil man that commits a willing sin but he
does it against his resoluiion; and what Christian lives,
that will not say and think that he hath repented in
some degree ? and yet still they commit sin, that is,
they break all their holy purposes as readily aa they
lose a dream ; and so great is our weakness, that to
most men the strength of a resolution is just such a
restraint as he suffers Avho is imprisoned in a curtain,
and secured with doors and bars of the finest linen :
for thmjgh the spirit be strong to resolve, the ficsh is
weak to keep it.

5. But when they have felt their follies, and see
the linen veil rent, some that are desirous to please
God, back their resolutions with voivs^ and then the
spirit is fortified, and the flesh may tempt and call,
but the soul cannot come forth, and therefore it tri-
umphs and acts its interest easily and certainly; and
then the flesh is mortified. It may be so. But do
not many of us iiujuire after a vow.'^ And if we con-
sider, it may be it was rash, or it was an impossible
matter, or Avithout just consideration, and weighing
of circumstances, or the case is altered, and there is
a new emergent necessity, or a vow is no more than
a resolution made in matter of duty ; both are made
for God, and in his eye and witness; or if nothing
will do it, men grow sad and weary, and despair, and
are impatient, and bite the knot in pieces Avith their
teeth, which they cannot by disputing, and the arts
of the tongue. A vovv will not secure our duty, be-
cause it is not stronger than our appetite; and the

Serm. X. the flesh axd the spirit. 1B7

spirit of man is weaker than the habits and superin-
duced nature of the flesh ; but by Httle and httle it
falls off like the finest thread twisted upon the traces
of a chariot, it cannot hold long.

6. Beyond all this, some choose excellent guides,
and stand within the restraints of modesty, and a
severe monitor; and the spirit of God hath put a
veil upon our spirits ; and by modesty in women and
young persons, by reputation in the more aged, and
by honour in the more noble, and by cotiscience in all,
hath fortified the spirit of man, that men dare not pre-
varicate their duty, though they be tempted strongly,
and invited perpetually ; and this is a partition-wall,
that separates the spirit from the flesh, and keeps it
in its proper strengths and retirements. But here
the spu'it of man, for all that it is assisted, strongly
breaks from the enclosure, and runs into societies of
flesh, and sometimes despises reputation^ and some-
times supplies it Avith little arts of flattery, and self-
love; and is modest as long as it can be secret ; and
when it is discovered, it grows impudent ; and a man
shelters himself in crowds and heaps of sinners, and
believes that it is no worse v*^ith him than with other
mighty criminals, and publick persons, who bring sin
into credit amono; fools and vicious persons ; or else
men take false measures of fame or publick honesty,
and the world being broken into so many parts of
disunion, and ao-reeino; in nothino- but in confederate
vice, and grown so remiss in governments, and severe
accounts, every thing is left so loose, that honour and
publick fame^ modesty and shame^ are now so slender
guards to the spirit, that the flesh breaks in and
makes most men more bold ao-ainstGod, than against
men, and against the laws of religion than of the
commonwealth.

7. When tiie spirit is made willing by the grace
of God, the flesh interposes in deceptions and false

198 THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT. Semi. X.

principles. If you tempt some man to a notorious
sin, as to rebellion, to deceive his trust, or to be
drunk, he will answer, he had rather die than do it :
but put the sin civilly to him, and let it be disguised
with little excuses, such things which indeed are
trifles, but yet they are colours fair enough to make
a weak pretence, and the spirit yields instantly.
Most men choose the sin, if it be once disputable
whetiier it be a sin or no .'' If they can but make an
excuse, or a colour, so that it shall not rudely dash
against the conscience with an open professed name
of sin, they suffer the temptation to do its worst. If
you tempt a man, you must tell him it is no sin, or it
is excusable : this is not rebelhon, but necessity and
self-defence ; it is not against my allegiance, but is a
performing of my trust; I do it for my friend, not
against my superiour ; I do it for a good end, and for
ms advantage ; this is not drunkenness, but free
mirth, and fair society ; it is refreshment, and enter-
tainment of some supernumerary hours, but it is not
a throwing away my time, or neglecting a day of
salvation ; and if there be any thing more to say for
it, though it be no moi'e than Jidam^s fig leaves, or
the excuses of children and truants, it shall be enough
to make the flesh prevail, and the spirit not to be
troubled; for so great is our folly, that the flesh al-
ways carries the cause, if the spirit can be cozened.
8. The flesh is so mingled with the spirit, that we
are forced to make distinctions in our appetite, to re-
concile our affections to God and religion, lest it be
impossible to do our duty ; we weep for our sins, but
we weep more for the death of our dearest friends,
or other temporal sadnesses ; we say we had rather
die than lose our faith, and yet we do not live accord-
ing to it ; we lose our estates and are impatient ; we
lose our virtue and bear it well enough; and what
virtue is so great, as more to be troubled for having

Serm. X. the flesh and the spirit. 199

sinned, than for being ashamed, and beggared, and
condemned to die ? Here we are forced to a distinc-
tion : there is a valuation of price and a valuation of
sense : or the spirit hath one rate of things, and the
flesh hath another; and what we. behave the greatest
evil, does not always cause to us the greatest trouble";
which shows plainly, that we are imperfect carnal
persons, and the flesh will in some measure prevail
over the spirit ; because we will suffer it in too many
instances, and cannot help it in all.

9. The spirit is abated and interrupted by the flesh,
because the flesh pretends it is not able to do those
ministeries, which are appointed in order to religion;
we are not able to fast ; or if we watch, it breeds
gouts and catarrhs ; or, charity is a grace too expen-
sive, our necessities are too big to do it ; or, we can-
not sufler pain ; and sorrow breeds death, and there-
fore our repentances must be more gentle, and we
must support ourselves in all our calamities : for we
cannot bear our crosses without a freer refreshment,
and this freedom passes on to license, and many me-
lancholy persons drown their sorrows in sin and for-
getfulness, as if sin were more tolerable than sorrow,
and the anger of God an easier load than a temporal
.care. Here the flesh betrays its weakness and its
follies ; for the flesh complains too soon, and the spi-
rit of some men, like Adam, being too fond of his Kve,
attends to all its murmurs and temptations ; and yet
the flesh is able to bear far more than is required of
it in usual duties. Custom of suffering will make us
endure much, and fear will make us suffer more, and
necessity makes us suffer any thing ; and lust and de-
sire make us to endure more than God is willing we
should ; and yet we are nice, and tender, and indul-
gent to our weaknesses, till our weaknesses grow
too strong for us. And what shall we do to secure
our duty, and to be delivered of ourselves, that the

200 THE FLESH AND THE SPIKIT. Semi. X.

body of death, which we bear about us, may not de-
stroy the hfe of the spirit ?

I have all this while complained, and you see not
without cause ; I shall afterwards tell you the reme-
dies for all this evil. In the mean time, let us have
but mean opinions of ourselves ; let us watch every
thing of ourselves as of suspected persons, and mag-
nify the grace of God, and be humbled for our stock
and spring of follies, and let us look up to him, who
is the fountain of grace and spiritual strengths.

And pray that God would give us what we ask, and
what we ask not; for we want more helps than we
understand, and we are nearer to evil than we per-
ceive, and we bear sin and death about us, and are in
love with it; and nothing comes from us but false
principles, and silly propositions, and weak discourses,
and startings from our holy purposes, and care of our
bodies, and of our palates, and the lust of the lower
belly ; these are the employment of our lives ; but if
we design to live happily and in a better place, it
must be otherwise with us ; we must become new
creatures ; and have another definition, and have new
strengths, which we can only derive from God, whose
grace is stiff cient for ns, and strong enough to prevail
over all our follies and infirmities.

* The good, Great Jove, ask'd or unask'd bestow ;
The ill we pray, tijough fondly urg'd, refuse.

♦9ferw?. XL THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT. 201

SERMON XL

PART. II.

3. If it be possible to cure an evil nature, we must
inquire after remedies for all this mischief. In order
to which I shall consider; 1. That since it is our
flesh and blood that are the principle of mischief, we
must not think to have it cured by washings and
light medicaments; the physician that went to cure
the hectick with quick-silver and fasting spittle, did
his patient no good, but himself became a proverb :
and he that by easy prayers and a seldom fast,
by the scattering of a little alms, and the issues of
some more natural virtue, thinks to cure his evil
nature, does fortify his indisposition, as a stick is
hardened by a little fire, which by a great one is de-
voured. Quanto saiius est mentem pot'ius eluere, auae
malis cupiditatibus sordidatur^ et nno virtutis ac fidei
lavacro universa vitia depellere?* Better it is by an
entire body of virtue, by a living and active faith, to
cleanse the mind from every vice, and to take off all
superinduced habits of sin; Quod qui fecerit^ quamli-
bet inquinatum ac sordidum corpus gerat, satis purus
est. If we take this course, although our body is
foul, and our affections unquiet, and. our rest dis-
composed, yet we shall be masters of our resolution,
and clean from habitual sins, and so cure our evil
nature. For our nature was not made evil but by
ourselves; but yet we are naturally evil; that is, by
a superinduced nature ; just as drunkards and in-
temperate persons have made it necessary to drink

* Lactantius.
VOL. I. 27

-02 TUL KLESn AND THE SPIRIT. Strm. XI.

extremely, and their nature requires it, and it is
health to them, they die without it, because they
have made themselves a new constitution, and
another nature, but much worse than that wliich
God made : their sin made this new nature ; and this
new nature makes sin necessary and unavoidable :
so it is in all other instances; our nature is evil,
because we have spoiled it ; and therefore the re-
moving the sin which we have brought in, is the
way to cure our nature : for this evil nature is not
a thing, which we cannot avoid ; we made it, and
therefore we must help it ; but as in the superindu-
cing this evil nature, we were thrust forward by the
world and the devil, by all objects from without, and
weakness from within ; so in the curing it we are to
be helped by God and his most holy spirit.

'A<}>' tie Td. xiJ'vA fl.KiL^'ra.ni (Sst/xa^aTau*

We must have a new nature put into us, which must
be the principle of new counsels, and better purposes,
of holy actions and great devotion ; and this nature
is derived from God, and is a grace and a favour of
heaven. The same spirit, that caused the holj
Jesus to be born after a new and strange manner,
must also descend upon us, and cause us to be born
again, and to begin a new life upon the stock of a

new nature. 'A;t' m^ivw ig^aro 9^a:t **< ctvS-gaT(v» o-wv^mmir^aLi
<fiiTt;, «/ « a.V'^paiTrivti t» ■jppjj to ^iiyrt^ov ncivuvidi yiniai ■&«/«,

said Origen : From him it first began., that a divine
and human nature were iveaved together^ that the hu-
nmn nature bif communication with the celestial may

also become divine^ cvx. pj /MOVm tw 'lno-w, a.\>.x «v 'o-xa-t toh /wera Ta
Ttfriuuv a.vttA^tfji.^oLvovs-1 ^tov, iy ' Iti-ro-j; (J'tJaiiv ; 7l0t OUlu in JCSUS^ OUf

* Deep in the mind tlie seeds of goodness sown.
Chastised desires and pious thoughts produce.

Serm. XI. the flesh a\d the spirit. 2015

in all that first believe in him^ and then obey him, living^
such a life as Jesus taught : and this is the sum total oi
the whole design ; as we have lived to the flesh, so we
must hereafter live to the spirit : as our nature hath
heen flesh, not only in its original, but in habits and
atiection ; so our nature must be spirit, in habit and
choice, in design and effectual prosecutions ; for
nothing can cure our old death, but this new birth ;
and this is the recovery of our nature, and the resti-
tution of our hopes, and therefore the greatest joy oi
mankind.

(piKov |Mtv (peyyo; nxiov, to it

It it a fine thing to see the light of the sun, and it is
pleasant to see the storm allayed and turned into a smooth
sea and afresh gale ; our eyes are pleased to see the earth
begin to live, and to produce her little issues with party-
coloured coats:

— — — ^ 'Axx' ovSiv cuTee KiL/uiTrptf
ClC 'rote iStTiTi) Kctt 'SrcSct ii^yyfAiWt;

Nothing is so beauteous as to see a new birth in a child-
less family ; and it is excellent to hear a man discourse
the hidden things of nature, and unriddle the per-

Jalexities of human notices and mistakes ; it is come-
y to see a wise man sit in the gates of the city, and
give right judgment in difficult causes: but all this is
nothing to the excellencies of a new birth; to see the
old man carried forth to funeral with the solemn
tears of repentance, and buried in the grave of Jesus,
and in his place a new creation to arise, a new heart
and a new understanding, and new affections,, and ex-

* Euripides.

♦204 THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT. Sertn. XL

cellent appetites : for nothing less than this can cure
all the old distempers.

2. Our life, and all our discourses, and every ob-
servation, and a state of reason, and a union of sober
counsels, are too little to cure a peevish spirit, and a
weak reasoning, and silly principles, and accursed
habits, and evil examples, and perverse affections,
and a whole body of sin and death. It was well said
in the comedy :

Nunquam ita quisquam bene stibducta rations ad vitam fuit,
Quin attas usus semper aliquid apportet novi,
Aliquid moneat ; ut ilia, quae scire credas, nescias,
Et quae tibi putas prima, in experiundo repudies.*

Men at first think themselves wise, and are always
most confident when they have the least reason;
and to-morrow they begin to perceive yesterday's
folly, and yet they are not wise ; but as the little
embryo in the natural sheet and lap of its mother,
first distinguishes into a little knot, and that in time
will be the heart, and then into a bigger bundle,
which after some days' abode grows into two little
spots, and they, if cherished by nature, will become
eyes, and each part by order commences into weak
principles, and is preserved with nature's greatest
curiosity ; that it may assist first to distinction, then
to order, next to usefulness, and from thence to
strength, till it arrive at beauty, and a perfect crea-
ture : so are the necessities, and so are the discourses
of men ; we first learn the principles of reason, which

* Never did man lay down so fair a plan,
So wise a rule of life, hut fortune, age.
Or long experience made some change in it ;
And taught him, that those things he thought he knew,
lie did not know ; and what he held as best,
In practice he threw by. Coljjan.

Serm. XL the flesh and the spirit. '205

breaks obscurely through a cloud, and brings a little
light, and then we discern a folly, and by little and
little leave it, till that enlightens the next corner of the
soul: and then there is a new discovery ; but the soul
is still in infancy and childish follies ; and every day
does but the work of one day; but therefore art and
use, experience and reason, although they do some-
thing, yet they cannot do enough, there must be
something else : but this is to be wrought by a new
principle ; that is, by the spirit of grace : nature and
reason alone cannot do it, and thei-efore the proper
cure is to be wrought by those general means of invi-
ting and cherishing, of getting and etitertaining God's
spirit; which when we have observed, we may ac-
count ourselves sufficiently instructed toward the re-
pair of our breaches, and reformation of our evil
nature.

1. The first great instrument of changing our
whole nature into the state of grace, flesh into the spi-
rit, is a firm belief, and a perfect assent to, and hearty
entertainment of, the promises of the gospel ; for
holy scripture speaks great words concerning faith.
It quenches the fiery darts of the devil, saith St. Paul ;*
it overcomes the ivorld, saith *S^. John ;t it is the fruit of
the spirit and the parent of love, it is obedience,
and it is humility, and it is a shield, and it is a breast^
plate, and a work, and a mystery, it is a fight, and it
is a victory, it is pleasing God, and it is that whereby
the just do live ; by faith we are purified, and by faith
we are sanctified, and hy faith we are justified, and by
faith we are saved : by this we have access to the throne of
grace, and by it our prayers shall prevaiiybr the sick ;
by it we stand, and by it we walk, and by this Christ
dwells in our hearts, and by it all the miracles of the
i^hurch have been done ; it gives great patience to

* Ephes. iv. 4, 16. f John iv. ^,

206 THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT. Semi. XT.

suffer, and great confidence to hope, and great
strength to do, and infalhble certainty to enjoy the
end of all our faith, and satisfaction of all our hopes,
and the reward of all our labours, even the most
mighty prize of our high calling : and if faith be such
a magazine of spiritual excellencies, of such universal
efficacy, nothing can be a greater antidote against the
venom of a corrupted nature. But then this is not a
grace seated finally in the understanding, but the
principle that is designed to, and actually productive
of a holy life ; it is not only a believing the proposi-
tions of scripture as we believe a proposition in the
metaphysicks, concerning which a man is never the
honester whether it be true or false ; but it is a belief
of things that concern us infinitely; things so great,
that if they be so true as great, no man that hath
his reason and can discourse, that can think and
choose, that can desire and work towards an end,
can possibly neglect. The great object of our
faith, to which all other articles do minister, is, rc-
surrection of our bodies and souls to eternal life, and
glories infinite. Now is it possible that a man that
believes this, and that he may obtain it for himself,
and that it was prepared for him, and that God de^-
sires to give it him, that he can neglect and de-
spise it, and not work for it, and perform such easy
conditions upon which it may be obtained ? Are
not most men of the world made miserable at a less
price than a thousand pounds a year ? Do not all the
usurers and merchants, ail tradesmen and labourers
under the sun, toil and care, labour and contrive,
venture and plot for a little money ? and no man
gets, and scarce any man desires so much of it as he
can lay upon three acres of ground; not so much as
will fill a great house : and is this sum, that is such a
trifle, such a poor limited heap of dirt, the reward of
3-11 the labour, and the end of all the care, and the

Serm. XL the flesh aijd the spirit. 207'

design of all the malice, and the recompense of all
the wars of the world? and can it be imaginable
that life itself, and a long life, an eternal and happy
life, a kingdom, a perfect kingdom and glorious, that
shall never have ending, nor ever shall be abated
with rebellion, or fears or sorrow, or care ; that such
a kingdom should not be worth the praying for, and
quitting of an idle company, and a foolish humour,
or a httle drink, or a vicious silly woman for it ?
surely men believe no such thing: they do not rely
upoii tiiose line stories that are read in books, and
published by preachers, and allowed by the laws of
all the world. If they did, why do they choose in-
temperance and a fever, lust and shame, rebellion
and danger, pride and a fall, sacrilege and a curse,
gain and passion, before humility and safety, religion
and a constant joy, devotion and peace of conscience,
justice and a quiet dwelling, charity, and a blessing;
and, at the end of all this, a kingdom more glorious
than all the beauties the sun did ever see ? Fides
est veluf qaodam aeternitatis exemplar^ praeterita simul
et praese?itia et futura sinu quodam vastissimo compre-
hendit^ ut nihil ei praetereat, nil per eat ^ praeeat nihil;
wow ^ faith is a certain image of eternity^ all things are
present to it-, things past^ and things to come, are all so
before the eyes of faith, that he in whose eye that
candle is enkindled, beholds heaven as present, and
sees how blessed a thing it is to die in God's favour,
and to be chimed to our grave with the musick of a
good coiiscience. Faith converses with the angels,
and antedates the hymns of glory; every man that
hatli this grace is as certain, that there are glories for
hi 11, if he perseveres in duty, as if he had heard and
sung the thanksgiving song for the blessed sentence
of doom's-day. And therefore it is no matter if these
thin^^s are separate and distant objects; none but
children and fools are taken with the present trifle,.

208 THE FLESH AiVD THE SPIRIT. SeWl. XL

and neglect a distant blessing, of which they have
credible and believed notices. Did the merchant
see the pearls and the wealth he deslo;ns to g-etlnthe
trade of twenty years? and is it possible that a child
should, when he learns the first rudiments of gram-
mar, know what excellent thin<^s theie are in learn-
ing, whither he designs his labour, and his hopes ?
We labour for that which is uncertain, and distant,
and believed, and hoped for with many allays, and
seen with diminution, and a troubled ray ; and
what excuse can there be, that we do not, labour for
that which is told us by God, and preached by his
only Son, and confirmed by miracles, and which
Christ himself died to purchase, and millions of
martyrs died to witness, and which we see good men
and wise believe with an assent stronger than their
evidence; and which they do believe, because they
do iove; and love, because they do believe? There
is nothing to be said, but that faith which did en-
lighten the blind, and cleanse the lepers, and washed
the soul of the Ethiopian; that faith that cures the
sick, and strengthens the paralytick, and baptizes
the Catechumens, and justifies the faithful, and re-
pairs the penitent, and confirms the just, and crowns
the martyrs ; tiiat faith, if it be true and proper,
Christian and alive, active and effective in us, is suf-
ficient to appease the storm of our passions, and to
instruct all our ignorances, and to make us wise unto
salvation; it will, if we let it do its first intention,
chastise our errours, and discover our follies ; it will
make us ashamed of trifling interests and violent pro-
secutions, of false principles and the evil disguises of
tiie world ; and then our nature will return to the
innocence and excellency in which God first estated
it; that is, our flesh will be a servant of the soul, and
the soul a servant to the spirit; and then, because
faith makes heaven to be the end of our desires^ and

Senn. XL the flesh and thk spirit. 209

God the object of our love and worshippings^ and the
scripture tlie ride of our actions^ and C/im^ our Lore?
and Master^ and the //o/j/ SpmV our might j assistant
and our counsellor, all the little uglinesses of the world,
and the follies of the flesh will be uneasy, and unsa-
voury, unreasonable, and a load ; and then that grace,
the grace of faith, that lays hold of the holy Trinity,
although it cannot understand it, and beholds heaven
before it can possess it, shall also correct our weak-
nesses, and master all our aversations : and though
we cannot in this world be perfect masters, and tri-
umphant persons, yet we be conquerors and more ;
that is, conquerors of the direct hostility, and sure of
a crown to be revealed in its due time.

2. The second great remedy of our evil nature,
and of the loads of the flesh, is devotion, or a state oi
prayer, and intercourse with God. For the gift of
the spirit of God, which is the great antidote of our
evil natures, is properly and expressly promised to
praver : if you, who are evil, give good things to your
childrett that ask you, how much more shall your Father
from heaven give his holy spirit to them that ask it f^
That which in St. Luke is called aytov miv/^a., the Holy
Spirit f is called in St. Matthew, t* a>*9*, good things .-f
that is, the Holy Spirit is all that good that we shall
need towards our pardon, and our sanctif cation, and
our glory, and this is promised to prayer: to this pur-
pose Christ taught us the Lord's prayer, by which
we are sufficiently instructed in obtaining this maga-
zine of holy and useful things. But prayer is but one
part of devotion ; and though of admirable efficacy to-
wards the obtaining this excellent promise, yet it is
to be assisted by the other parts of devotion, to make
it a perfect remedy to our great evil. He that would
secure his evil nature, must be a devout perso7i ; and

* Luke xi. 13. f Mat. vii. 11.

VOL. I. 28

210 THE FLESH AND THK SPIRIT. Scmi. XL

he that is devout^ besides that he prays frequently, he
delights In it, as it Is a conversation with God ; he re-
joices in God, and esteems him the light of his eyes,
and the support of his confidence, the object of his
love, and the desires of his heart ; the man is uneasy
but when he does God service; and his soul is at
peace and rest when he does what may be accepted :
and this is that which the Apostle counsels, and gives
in precept; rejoice m the Loid aluays, and again I soy^
rejoice ;* that is, as the Levites were appointed to re-
joice, because God was their portion in tithes and
oiferings, so now that in the spiritual sense God is our
portion, we should rejoice in him, and make him our
mheritance, and his service our employment, and
the peace of conscience to be our rest, and then it
is impossible we should be any longer slaves to sin,
and afflicted by the baser employments of the flesh,
or carry burdens for the devil ; and therefore the
scholiast upon Juvenal observed well, mdlvm malum
gaudium est, no true joy can be evil ; and therefore it
was improperly said of Virgil^ mala gaudia mentis^
calling lust and wild desires the evil joys of the mind ;
gaudium enim nisi sapienti non contingere, said Seneca,
none but a wise and a good man can truly rejoice ; the
evil laugh loud, and sigh deeply, they drink drunk,
and forget their sorrows, and all the joys of evil men
are only arts of forgetfulness, devices to cover their
sorrow, and make them not see their death, and its
affriffhtina: circumstances ; but the heart never can
rejoice and be secure, be pleased and be at lest, but
when it dwells with holiness; the joys that come
from thence are safe and greats unchangeable and un-
abated^ healthful and holy ; and this is true joy: and
this is that, which can cure all the little images of
pleasure and temptation, which debauch our nature,

* Phil. ir. 1.

Serm. XL the flesh and the spirit. 211

and make it dwell with hospitals, in the region of
diseases and evil sorrows. St. Gregory well observed
the difference : saying, that " corporal pleasures^
when we have them not., enkindle aflame and a burning
desire in the heart., and make a tyian very miserable., be-
fore he tastes them ; the 'appetite to them is like the
thirst and the desires of a fever., the pleasure of
drinking will not pay for the pain of the desire ; and
when they are enjoyed^ they instantly breed satiety and
loathing. But spiritual rejoicings and delights are
loathed by them that have them not, and despised by them,
that never felt them; but when they are once tasted,
they increase the appetite and swell into bigger capa-
cities ; and the more they are eaten, the more they
are desired, and cannot become a weariness, because
they satisfy all the way, and only increase the desire,
because themselves grow bigger and more amiable."
And therefore, when this new and stranger appetite,
and consequent joy, arises in the heart of man, it so
fills all the faculties, that there is no gust, no desire
left tor toads and vipers, for hemlock and the deadly
night-shade.

Sirenas, hilarem navigantium poenara,
Blandasque inortes, gaudiumque crudele,
Q.uas nemo quondam deserebat auditas,
Prudens Ulysses diciturreliquisse.*

Then a man can hear the musick of songs and dances,
and think them to be heathenish noises; and if he be
engaged in the society of a woman-singer, he can be
as unconcerned as a marble statue ; he can be at a
feast and not be defiled, he can pass through theatres
as through a street ; then he can look on money as his

* The Sirens' pleasing snares, and warbling charms
Which mariners to fatal joys allur'd,
The wise Ulysses unregarded past.

212 Tiifc: ;lf.8h and tii;; si';kit. ISenn. Xf.

servant, nee distant aera liipinis ; he can use it as the
Greeks did their sharp coins, to cast accounts withal,
and not from thence take the accounts of his weahh
or his fehcitv. If jou can once obtain but to dehght
in prayer, and to long for the day of a communion,
and to be pleased with holj meditation, and to desire
God's grace with great passion, and an appetite keen
as awoifuponthe void plains of the north; if you
can delight in God's love, and consider concerning his
providence, and busy yourselves in the pursuit of the
affairs of his kingdom, then you have the grace of de-
votion, and your evil nature shall be cured.

3. Because this great cure is to be wrought by
the spirit of God^ which is a neiv fiafure in lis, we must
endeavour to abstain from those things, which by a
special malignity are directly opposite to the spirit of
reason, and the spirit of grace ; and those are drnn-
kenness and lust. He that is full of wine cannot
be full of the spirit of God ; St. Paid noteth the
hostility, be not drunk with ivinc, but be filled with
the spirit :* a man that is a drunkard does perire
cito, he perishes quickly, his temptations that come
to him make but short work with him ; a drunk-
ard is ctiTffiToc; our English well expresses it, it is a
sotfishness., and the man is axi^aa-To?, a;t?"=^' «<;^:/»>"^'^«?, an
useless, senseless person, j/t' oy;^" »^*»"t*'' «'^'^' '^^ ^»3-t/«v kolk^v

fXiyia-Tov uv^poKToia-t, xa/ /Sxa-fspajTotTov ", of all the CVlls of the

world, nothing is worse to a man's self, nothing is
more harmful than this ; et-roo-Ti^ouvin ictvTov tou ?>gcvyv, o ^s^<o-
Tov ii/uiv a.yu.Sov s5-;^fv » <^uir{;, said Ci'obylus, it dcprivcs a
wise man of his counsel and his understanding :
now, because it is the greatest good that nature
hath, that which takes it away must needs be our
greatest enemy. Nature is weak enough of itself,
but drunkenness takes from it all the little strengths

* Ephes. V. 18.

Serm. XI. the flesh and the spirit. 213

that are left to It, and destroys the spirit ; and the
man can neither have the strengths of nature, nor
the streno:ths of srace ; and how then can the man
do wisely or virtuously ? Spiritus sanctus amat sicca
corda, the spirit of God loves dry hearts., said the
Christian proverb; and Josephus said of Samson,

^nKov «v 'nrpcpyiTeuiraiv cltto th tingf tj)V Jk<Tav (ra!^g^:(rwK, it OppearS nC

was a prophet, or a man full of the spirit, by the
temperance of his diet , and now that all the people
are holy unto the Lord, they must aww^ i>v6/*c s;t«'^ ^s
Plutarch said of their consecrated persons; they
must have dry and sober purities : for by this means
their reason is useful, and their passions not violent,
and their discourse united, and the precious things of
their memory at hand, and they can pray, and read,
and they can meditate and practise, and then they
can learn, where their natural weaknesses are most
urgent, and how they can be tempted, and can secure
their aids accordingly ; but how Is it possible, that
such a man should cure all the evils of his nature, and
repair the breaches of Marri's sin, and stop all the
effect which is upon him from all the evils of the
world. If he delights in seas of drink, and is pleased
with the follies of distempered persons, and laughs loud
at the childish humours and weak discourses of the
man that can do nothing but that for which Dionysius
slew Jintiphon, and Timagenes did fall from Caesar'' s
friendship ; that Is, play the fool and abuse his friend ?
He cannot give good counsel or spend an hour In
wise sayings; but half a day they can talk, w^ybre^,
unde corona cachinnum tollere possit, to make the crowd
laugh and consider not.

And the same is the case of lust; because It is
exactly contrary to Christ the King of virgins, and
his Holy Spirit, who is the Prince of purities and
holy thoughts ; It Is a captivity of the reason, and
an enraging of the passions, it wakens every night,

214 THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT. Serm. XL

and rages every day, it desires passionately, and pro-
secutes violently, it hinders business and distracts
counsel, it brings jealousies and enkindles wars, it
sins against the body and weakens the soul, it de-
files a temple and drives the Holy Spirit forth, and it
is so entire a prosecution of the follies and weak-
nesses of nature; such a snare and a bait to weak and
easy fools, that it prevails infinitely, and rages horri-
bly, and rules tyrannically ; it is a very fever in
the reason, and a calenture in the passions ; and
therefore, either it must be quenched, or it will be
impossible to cure our evil natures: the curing of this
is not the remedy of a single evil, but it is a doing
violence to our whole nature ; and therefore hath in
it the greatest courage and an equal conduct, and
supposes spiritual strengths great enough to contest
against every enemy.

4. Hitherto is to be reduced, that Ave avoid all flat-
terers and evil company ; for it was impossible tliat
Alexander should be wise and cure his pride and his
drunkenness, so long as he entertained Jigesius and
Jlgnon^ Bagoas and Demetrius^ and slew Parmenio
and Philotas^ and murdered wise Calisthenes ; for he
that loves to be flattered, loves not to change his
pleasure ; but had rather to hear himself called wiscj
than to be so. Flattery does bribe an evil nature,
and corrupt a good one ; and make it love to give
wronsf iudirment, and evil sentences : he that loves
to be flattered can never want some to abuse him,
but he shall always w^ant one to counsel him, and
then he can never be wise.

5. But I must put these advices into a heap; he
therefore that will cure his evil nature, must set
himself against his chiefest lust, which when he hath
overcome, the lesser enemies will come in of them-
selves. He must endeavour to reduce his affections
to an indilferency ; for all violence is an enemy to

Serm. XI. the flesh and the spirit. 215

reason and counsel, and is that state of disease for
which he is to inquire remedies.

6. It is necessary that in all actions of choice he
deliberate and consider, that he may never do that,
for which he must ask a pardon, and he must suffer
shame and smart : and therefore Cafo did well re-
prove Aulus jllbinus for writing the Roman story in
the Greek tongue, of which he had but imperfect
knowledge ; and himself was put to make his apology
for so doing: Cato told him that he was mightily in
love with a fault, that he had rather beg a pardon
than be innocent ; Who forced him to need the par-
don? And when before hand we know we must
change from what we are, or do worse, it is a better
compendmm not to enter in from whence we must
uneasily retire.

7. In all the contingencies of chance and variety
of action, remember that thou art the maker of thy
own fortune, and of thy own sin ; charge not God
with it either before or after; the violence of thy own
passion is no superinduced necessity from him, and
the events of Providence in all its strange variety
can give no authority or patronage to a foul forbidden
action, though the next chance of war or fortune be
prosperous and rich. An Egyptian robber sleeping
under a rotten wall was awakened by Serapis^ and
sent away from the ruin ; but being quit from the
danger, and seeing the wall to slide, he thought ihcdae-
mon loved his crime, because he had so strangely pre-
served him from a sudden and a violent death. But Se-

TapiS told llim, QuvxIov y.iv awttov vuv tpuyt;, a-TsLvpan f taSi (^uxx'tlofAiviCy

I saved you from the wall^ to reserve yon for the wheel ;
from a short and private death, to a painful and dis-
graceful ; and so it is very frequently in the event of
human affairs : men are saved from one death, and
reserved for another; or are preserved here, to be
destroyed hereafter; and they that would judge of

216 THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT. ^enn. XL

actions by events, must stay till all events are
passed ; that is, till all their posterity be dead,
and the sentence is given at doom's-day ; in the
mean time, the evils of our nature are to be look-
ed upon without all accidental appendages ; as they
are in themselves, as they have an irregularity
and disorder, an unreasonableness and a sting ; and
be sure to rely upon nothing, but the truth of laws
and promises; and take severe accounts by those
lines, which God gave us on purpose to reprove
our evil habits and filthy inclinations. Men that
are not willing to be cured are glad of any thing
to cozen them ; but the body of death cannot be ta-
ken off from us, unless we be honest in our purposes,
and severe in our counsels, and take just measures,
and glorify God, and set ourselves against ourselves,,
that we may be changed into the likeness of the sons
of God.

8. Avoid all delay in the counsels of religion. Be-
cause the aversation and perverseness of a child's na-
ture may be corrected easily ; but every day of indul-
gence and excuse increases the evil, and makes it still
more natural, and still more necessary.

9. Learn to despise the world ; or, which is a bet-
ter compendium in the duty, learn but truly to under-
stand it ; for it is a cozenage all the way ; the head
of it is a rainbow, and the face of it is flattery ; its
words are charms, and all its stories are false ; its
body is a shadow, and its hands do knit spiders'
webs ; it is an image and a noise, with a hyaena's
lip and a serpent's tail ; it was given to serve the
needs of our nature; and instead of doing it, it cre-
ates strange appetites, and nourishes thirsts and fe-
vers ; it brings care, and debauches our nature, and
brings shame and death as the reward of all our
cares. Our nature is a disease, and the world does
nourish it ; but if you leave to feed upon such un-

Serm. XL the flesh and the spirit. SIT

wholesome diet, your nature reverts to its first puri-
ties, and to the entertainments of the grace of God.

4. I am now to consider, how far the infirmities of
the flesh can be innocent, and consist with the spirit
of grace. For all these counsels are to be entertained
into a willing spirit ; and not only so, but into an ac-
tive ; and so long as the spirit is only willing, the
weakness of the flesh will in many instances become
stronger than the strengths of the spirit. For he
that hath a good will, and does not do good actions,
which are required of him, is hindered, but not by God
that requires them, and therefore by himself, or his
worst enemy. But the measures of this question are
these :

1. If the flesh hinders us of our duty, it is our ene-
my; and then our misery is not, that the flesh is weak,
but that it is too strong. But, 2. when it abates
the degrees of duty and stops its growth, or its pass-
ing on to action and effect, then it is weak, but not
directly, nor always criminal. But to speak particu-
larly.

1. If our flesh hinders us of any thing that is a di-
rect duty, and prevails upon the spirit to make it do
an evil action, or contract an evil habit, the man is in
a state of bondage and sin : his flesh is the mother of
corruption and an enemy to God. It is not enough to
say, I desire to serve God, and cannot as I would : I
would fain love God above all the things in the world,
but the flesh hath appetites of its own that must be
observed : I pray to be forgiven as I forgive others ;
but flesh and blood cannot put up such an injury : for
know that no infirmity, no unavoidable accident, no
necessity, no poverty, no business can hinder us from
the love of God, or forgiving injuries, or being of a
religious and a devout spirit. Poverty and the in-
trigues of the world are things, that can no more hin-
der the spirit in these duties, than a strong enemy

VOL. I. 29

218 THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT. Sevm. XL

can hinder tlie sun to shine, or the clouds to drop rain.
These thin<2;s which God requires of us, and exacts
from us witli mighty penalties, these he hath made
us able to perform ; for he knows, that we have no
strenglh but what he gives us ; and therefore, as he
binds burdens upon our shoulders, so he gives us
stiength to bear them : and therefore he that says he
cannot forgive, says onlj that his lust is stronger than
his religion; his flesh prevails upon his spiiit. For
what necessitv can a man have to cuise him, ^^hom
he calls enemy ? or to sue him, or kill him, or do him
any spite ? A man may serve all his needs of nature,
though he does nothing of all this; and if he be will-
ing, what hinders him to love, to pardon, to wish
well, to desire ? The willing is the doing in this case ;
and he that says he is willing to do his duty, but he
cannot, does not understand what he sa}s. For all
the duty of the inner man consists in the actions of
the will, and theie they are seated, and to it all the in-
ferioui faculties obey, in those things which are direct
emanations and eflects of will. He that desires to
love God, does love him ; indeed men are often
cozened with pretences, and in some good mood, or
warmed with a holy passion : but it signifies nothing,
because they will not quit the love oi God's enemies;
and theiefoie they do not desire what they say they
do : but if the will and heart be right, and not false
and dissembhng, this duty is, or will be done infal-

2. If the spirit and the heart be willing, it will pass
on to outward actions in all things, \\hcicit ought,
or can. lie that hath a chaiitable soul, a\ ill have a
charitable hand ; and will give his money to the
poor, as he liath given his heart to God. t or these
things which are in our hand are under the pow
er of the will, and therefore are to be command-
ed by it. He that says to the naked, Be warm

Serm. XL the flesh and thk spirit. 219

and clothed^ and gives him not the garment t'lat
lies by hiin, or money to buy one, mocks God^ and
the poor, and himself. JYeyiiam illud verbum est,
bene vult, nisi qui bene facit^ said the comedy ; it is
an evil saying, he icishes well, unless he do well*

3. Those things which are not in our power; that
is, such things in which the flesh is inculpably weak,
or naturally or poHtically disabled, the will does the
work of the outward and of the inward man ; we can-
not clothe Christ's body, he needs it not, and we can-
not approach so sacred and separate a presence ; but
if we desire to do it, it is accounted as if we had. The
ignorant man catmot discourse wisely and promote
the interest of souls, but he can love souls and desire
their felicity; though I cannot build hospitals and
colleges, or pour great sums of money into the lap
of the poor, yet if I encourage others and exhort
them, if I commend and promote the work, I
have done the work of a holy religion. For in
these and the like cases, the outward work is not
always set in our power, and therefore, without
our fault is omitted, and can be supplied by that
which is in our power.

4. For that is the last caution concerning this
question. JVo man is to be esteemed of a willing spirit,
but he that endeavours to do the outivard work, or to
make all the supplies that he can; not only by the for-
wardness of his spirit, but by the compensation of
some other charities, or devotion, or religion. Silver
and gold have I none, and therefore I can give you
none: but 1 wish you well; how will that appear,^
Why thus. Such as I have, I ivill give you : rise up and
walk. I cannot give you God, but 1 can give you
counsel ; I cannot relieve your need, but 1 can relieve
your sadness ; 1 cannot cure you, but 1 can comfort
you ; I cannot take away your poverty, but I can

* TriauminHs.

220 THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT. Scrm. XL

ease your spirit; and God accepts us, (saith the Apos-
tle,) according to ivhat a man hath, and not according
to what he hath not. Only as our desires are great,
and our spirits are willing, so we shall find ways to
make supply of our want of ability and expressed
liberality.

Et labor ingcnium inisero dedit, et sua quemque
Advigilarc sibi jussit IbrtuDa premendo.*

What the poor man's need will make him do, that
also the good man's charity will ; it will find out
ways and artifices of relief, in kind or in value ; in
comfort or in prayers; in doing it himself or pro-
curing others :

ITslVT* St T«yT' iSlSct^i irFlKgM TtAVrCX/Uli; aM(tyM-\

The necessity of our fortune, and the willingness of
our spirits, will do all this ; all that it can, and some-
thing that it cannot; You have relieved the saints,
(saith St. Patd,) according to your power; yea, and
beyond your power : only let us be careful in all in-
stances, that we yield not to the weakness of the
flesh, nor listen to its fair pretences; for the flesh
can do more than it says, we can do more than we
think we can ; and if we do some violence to the flesh,
to our affairs, and to the circumstances of our for-
tune, for the interest of our spirit, we shall make our
flesh useful, and the spirit strong, the flesh and its
weakness shall no more be an objection, but shall
comply, and co-operate, and serve all the necessities
of the spirit.

•'^^ Distress the needy prompts, and fortune hard
Genius and caution to the poor supplies.

I Necessity the master teacher proves.

SERMON XII.

OF LUKEWARMNESS, AND ZEAL

SPIRITUAL FERVOUR.

PART I.

Jer. xlviii. 10; first part.
Cursed be he that doth the work of the Lord deceitfully.

Christ's kingdom being in order to the kingdom
of his Father which shall be manifest at the day of
judgment, must therefore be spiritual ; because then
it is, that all things must become spiritual, not only
by way of eminency, but by entire constitution and
perfect change of natures. Men shall be like angels,
and angels shall be comprehended in the lap of spiri-
tual and eternal felicities; the soul shall not understand
by material phantasms, neither be served by the pro-
visions of the body, but the body itself shall become
spiritual, and the eyes shall see intellectual objects, and
the mouth shall feed upon hymns and glorifications
of God, the belly shall be then satisfied by the ful-
ness of righteousness, and the tongue shall speak
nothing but praises, and the propositions of a celes-
tial wisdom, the motion shall be the swiftness of an
angel, and it shall be clothed with white as with a
garment : holiness is the sun, and righteousness is the
moon, in that region J our society shall be choirs of

222 OF LFKEWARMNESS AMD ZEAL. Semi. XIL

sinijers, and our conversation, wonder; contempla-
tion shall be our food, and love shall be the uiue of
elect souls. And as to every natural appetite there is
now proportioned an object, crass, material, unsatis-
fvino^, and allayed with sorrow and uneasiness ; so
there be new caj)acities and equal objects ; the desires
shall be fruition, and the appetite shall not suppose
want, but a faculty of delight, and an unmeasuiable
complacency: the will and the understanding, love
and wonder, joys every day, and tl)e same for ever;
this shall be their state who shall be accounted wor-
thy of the resurrection to this life ; where the body
shall be a partner, but no servant; where it shall
have no work of its own, but it shall rejoice with the
soul ; where the soul shall rule without resistance or
an enemy, and we shall be fitted to enjov God who is
the Lord and Father of spirits. In this world, we see
it is quite contrary : we long for perishing meat, and
fill our stomachs with corruption ; we look after
white and red and the weaker beauties of the night;
we are passionate after rings and seals, and enraged
at the breaking of a crystal ; we deli2:ht in the socie-
ty of fools and weak persons ; we laugh at sin and
contrive mischiefs ; and the body rebels against the
soul and carries the cause against all its just preten-
ces; and our soul itself is above half of it earth, and
stone in its aftections and distempers ; our hearts are
hard and intiexible to the softer whispers of mercy
and compassion, having no loves for any thing but
strange flesh, and heaps of money, and popular noises,
for misery and folly : and therefore we are a huge way
off from the kingdom of God, whose excellencies,
whose designs, wJiose ends, whose constitution is
spiritual and holy, and separate, and sublime, and
perfect. iSow between these two states of natural
Jlesh^ and heavenly spirit ; that is, the powers of dark-
ness, and the regions of light, the miseries of man,

Serm. Xlf. of lukewarmness and zeal. 223

and the perfections of God : the Imperfection of na-
ture where we stand by our creation, and superven-
ing foHies, and that state of fehcities, whither we are
designed by the mercies of God, there is a middle
state; the kingdom o/" ^roce, wrought for us by our
Med\aioi\ the man Christ Jcsus^ who came to perfect
the virtue of rehgion, and the designs of God, and to
reform our nature, and to make it possible for us to
come to that spiritual state, where all felicity does
dwell. The religion that Christ taught is a spii'i-
tual religion^ it designs (so far as this state can per-
mit) to make us spiritual; that is, so as the spirit be
the prevaiHng ingredient. God must novi be worship-
ped in spirit : and not only so, but witho fervent spi-
rit ; and though God in all religions did seize upon
the spirit, and even under Moses'' law did, by the sha-
dow of the ceremony, require the substantial worship;
by cutting otf the flesh intended the circumcision of
the heart : yet because they were to mind the out-
ward action, it took off much from the intention and
activity of the spirit ; man could not do both busily.
And then they failed also in the other part of a spiri-
tual religion ; for the nature of a spiritual religion is,
that in it we serve God with our hearts and affec
tions ; and because while the spirit prevails, we
do not to evil purposes of abatement converse with
flesh and blood, this service is also fervent, intense^
active^ wise, and busy, according to the nature of things
spiritual. Now because God always perfectly intend-
ed it, yet because he less perfectly requijed it in the
law of Jlloses, I say they fell short in both.

4. For, 1. They so rested in the outward action,
that they thought themselves chaste, if they were no
adulterers, though their eyes were wanton as kids,
and their thoughts polluted as the springs of the wil-
derness, when a panther and a lioness descend to
drink and lust ; and if they did not rob the temple.

224 OF LUKETVARMNESS AND ZEAL. Serm. XIL

they accounted it no sin if they murmured at the
riches of rchgion ; and Joscphus reproves Polybius for
saying that Antiockus was punished for having a de-
sign of sacrilege ; and therefore Tertullian says of
tliem, they were necplenae^ tiec adeo timendae discipli-
iiac ad innoccniiae veritatem ; this was their righteous-
ness which Christ said, unless we will exceed^ ive shall
7wt enter into the kingdom of heaven, where all spiri-
tual perfections are in state and excellency.

2. The other part of a spiritual worship is a fer-
vour ^wAvi. holy zealot Godi's ^ory, ^rediina'ss of de-
sire, and quickness of action ; of all this the Jews
were not careful at all, excepting the zealots
amongst them, and they were not only fervent, but
inflamed ; and they had the earnestness of passion
for the holy warmth of religion ; and instead of an
earnest charity, they had a cruel discipline ; and for
fraternal correction, they did destroy a sinning Is-
raelite ; and by both these evil states of religion
they did the work of the Lord deceitfidly ; they either
gave him the action without the heart, or zeal with-
out charity, or religion without zeal, or ceremony
without religion, or indifferency without desires ;
and then God is served by the outward man and
not the inward ; or by part of the inward and not
all ; by the understanding, and not by the will ; or
by the will, when the affections are cold, and the
body unapt, and the lower faculties in rebellion, and
the superiour in disorder, and the work of God is left
imperfect, and our persons ungracious, and our ends
unacquired, and the state of a spiritual kingdom not
at all set forward towards any hope or possibility of
being obtained. All this Christ came to mend, and
by his laws did make provision that God should be
served entirely, according as God ahvays designed ;
and accordingly required by his prophets, and par-
ticularly in my text, that his work be done sincere-

Serm. XII. of lukewarmness and zeal.

225

li/, and our duty wilh great affection ; and by these
two provisions, both the intention and the extension
are secured; our duty shall be entire, and it shall he
perfect, we shall be neither lame nor cold, without
a limb, nor without natural heat, and then the work
of the Lord will prosper in our hands : but if we fall
in either, we do the Lord's work deceitfully, and
then we are accursed. For so saith the spirit of
God, Cursed be he that doth the ivork of the Lord
deceitfully.

1. Here then is the duty of us all. 1. God re-
quires of us to serve him with an integral, entire, or
a whole worship and religion. 2. God requires of
us to serve him with earnest and intense atFections ;
the entire purpose of both which, I shall represent in
its several parts by so many propositions. 3. I shall
consider concerninor the measures of zeal and its
inordinations.

1 . He that serves God with the body without the soul,
serves God deceitfully. My son, give me thy heart ;
and thouo;h I cannot think that nature was so sacra-
mental, as to point out the holy and mysterious
Trinity by the triangle of the heart, yet it is certain
that the heart of man is God's special portion, and
every angle ought to point out towards him directly;
that is, the soul of man ought to be presented to God,
and given him as an oblation to the interest of his
service.

1. For, to worship God with our souls, confesses
one of his glorious attributes ; it declares him to be
the searcher of hearts, and that he reads the secret
purposes, and beholds the smallest arrests of fancy,
and bends in all the flexures and intrigues of crafty
people ; and searches out every plot and trifling con-
spiracy against him, and against ourselves, and
against our brethren.

VOL. I. 30

226 OF LCKEWARMNESS AiVD ZEAL. l^einil. XIL

2. It advances the powers and concernments of
his Providence, and confesses all the affairs of men,
all their cabinets and their nightly counsels, their
snares and two-edg-ed mischiefs, to be over-ruled by
him ; for what lie sees he judges, and what he
judges he rules, and \\hathe lules must turn to his
glory ; and of this glory he reflects rays and influ-
ences upon his servants, and it shall also turn to
their e:ood.

5. This service distinguishes our duty towards
God from all our conversation with man, and sepa-
rates the divine commandments from the imperfect
decrees of princes and republicks ; for these are satis-
fied by the outward work, and cannot take any other
coo;nizance of the heart, and the will of man, but as
himself is pleased to signify. He that wishes the
fiscus empty, and that all the revenues of the crown
were in his counting-liouse, cannot be punished by
the laws, unless himself become his own traitor and
accuser; and therefore, what man cannot discern, he
must not judge, and must not require. But God sees
it, and judges it, and requires it, and theiefore re-
serves this as his own portion, and the chiefest feudal
right of his crown.

4. He that secures the heart, secures all the rest;
because this is the principle of all the moral actions
of the whole man; and the hand obeys this, and
the feet walk by its prescriptions ; Ave eat and
diink by measures which the soul desires and li-
mits ; and though the natural actions of men are
not subject to choice and rule, yet the animal ac-
tions are under discipline ; and although it cannot
be helped but we shall desire, yet our desires can
receive measures, and the laws of circumstances,
and be reduced to order, and nature be changed
into grace, and the actions animal (such as are, eat-
ing, drinking, laughing, weeping, &c.) shall become

Serm. XII. of lukewarmnesb and zeal. 22f

actions of religion; and those tliat are simply na-
tural (such as being hungry and tlilrsty,) shall be
adopted into the retinue of religion, and become
reliofious by beinar ordered or chastised, or suft'eicd
or directed ; and therefore God requires the heaiu
because he requires all ; and ail cannot be secured
without the principal be enclosed. But he that seals
up a fountain may drink up all the waters alone, and
may best appoint the channel where it shall run, and
what grounds it shall refresh.

5. That 1 may sum up many reasons In one; God,
by requiring the heart, secures the perpetuity and
perseverance of our duty, and its sincerity., and its
integrity^ and its perfection : for so also God takes
account of lltUe things ; it being all one in the heart
of man, whether maliciously it omits a duty in a
small Instance or In a great ; for although the ex-
pression hath variety and degrees in It, in relation
to those purposes of usefulness and charity whither
God designs it; yet the obedience and disobedience
is all one, and shall be equally accounted for; and
therefore the Jew Trypkon disputed against Justin^
that the precepts of the gospel were Impossible to
be kept, because it also requiring the heart of man
did stop every egression of disorders : for making
the root holy and healthful, as the balsam of Judea.,
or the drops of manna in the evening of the Sab-
bath ; It also causes that nothing spring thence but
gums fit for incense, and oblations for the altar of
proposition, and a cloud of perfume fit to make
atonement for our sins; and being united to the
great Sacrifice of the world, to reconcile God and
man together. Upon these reasons you see It is
highly fit that God should require it, and that we
should pay the sacrifice of our hearts ; and not at
all think that God Is satisfied with the work of the
hands, when the affections of the heart are absent.

228 OF LUKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. Semi. XII.

He that prays because he would be quiet, and would
fain be quit of it, and communicates for fear of the
laws, and comes to church to avoid shame, and gives
alms to be eased of an importunate beggar, or re-
lieves his old parents because they will not die in
their time, and provides for his children lest he be
compelled by laws and shame, but yet complains of
the charge of God's blessings; this man is a servant
of the eyes of men, and offers parchment or a white
skin in sacrifice, but the flesh and the inwards he
leaves to be consumed by a stranger fire. And
therefore this is a deceit that robs God of the best,
and leaves that for religion which men pare off: it
is sacrilege, and brings a double curse.

2. He that serves God uith the soul without the
hody., when both can be conjoined^ doth the work of the
Lord deceitfully. Paphniftius, whose knees were cut
for the testimony of Jesus, was not obliged to wor-
ship with the humble flexures of the bending peni-
tents: and blind Bartimeus could not read the holy
lines of the law, and therefore that part of the work
was not his duty; and God shall not call Lazarus
to account for not giving alms, nor l^t. Peter and
St. John for not giving silver and gold to the lame
man, nor Kpaphroditus for not keeping his fasting
days when he had his sickness. But when God
hath made the body an apt minister to the soul,
and lialh given money for alms, and power to pro-
tect the oppressed, and knees to serve in prayer, and
hands to serve our needs, then the soul alone is not
to work; but as liachaeh^ayc her maid to Jacob, and
she bore children to her lord upon her mistress's
knees; and the children were reckoned to them
both, because the one had fruitful desires, and the
other a fruitful womb: so must the body serve the
needs of the spirit; that what the one desires the
other may effect, and the conceptions of the soul

Serm. XII. of lukewarmness and zeal. 229

may be the productions of the body, and the body
must bow when the soul worships, and the hand
must help when the soul pities, and both together
do the work of a holy religion ; the body alone can
never serve God without the conjunction and |:rece-
dingact of the soul; and sometimes the soul without
the body is Imperfect and vain ; for in some actions
there is a body and a spirit^ a material and a spiritual
part : and when the action hath the same constitu-
tion that a man hath, without the act of both it is
as imperfect as a dead man ; the soul cannot produce
the body of some actions any more than the body can
put life into it ; and therefore an ineffective pity and
a lazy counsel, an empty blessing and gay words, are
but deceitful charity.

Quod peto, da, Cai ; non peto consilium.*

He that gave his friend counsel to study the law.
when he desired to borrow 201. was not so friendly
in his counsel as he was useless in his charity : spiri-
tual acts can cure a spiritual malady ; but if my body
needs relief, because you cannot feed me with dia-
grams, or clothe me with Euclid''s elements, you must
minister a real supply by a corporal charity to my
corporal necessity. This proposition is not only use-
ful in the doctrine of charity, and the virtue of reli-
gion, but in the professions of faith, and requires that
it be publick, open, and Ingenuous. In matters of
necessary duty it is not suflicienttoAot'ezV to ourselves,
but we must also have it to God, and all the world ;
and as in the heart we believe, so by the mouth we con-
fess unto salvation. He is an ill man that is only a
Christian in his heart, and is not so in his profession
and publications; and as your heart must not be
wanting in any good professions and pretences, so

* Relieve hjj need, your useless counsel spare.

^30 OF LUKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. Serm. Xll.

neither must publick profession be wanting in every
good and necessary persuasion. The faith and the
cause of God must be owned pubhckly ; for if it be
the cause of God, it will never bring us to shame. I
do not say, whatever we think we must tell it to all
the world, much less at all times, and in all circum-
stances ; but we must never deny that which we be-
lieve to be the cause of God in such circumstances,
in which we can and ought to glorify him. But this
extends also to other instances. He that swears a
false oath with his lips, and unswears it with his heart,
hath deceived one more than he thinks for ; himseli is
the most abused person : and when my action is con-
trary to men, they will reprove me ; but when it is
against my own persuasion, I cannot but reprove
myself; and am witness, and accuser, and party, and
guilty, and then God is the judge, and his anger will
be a fierce executioner, because we do the LonTs
work deceitfully.

3. They are deceitful in the Lord''s uork, that reserve
one faculty for sin^ oronesinforthcnisclia,., or one ac-
tion to please their appetite., and many for religion. Kab-
bi Kimchi taught his scholars, cogitationcm pravam
Deus non habct vice facti., nisi concepta fuerit in Dei
fidem et religioncm ; that God is never angry with an
evil thought, unless it be a thought of apostasy from
the Jews' religion; and therefore, provided that
mcF) be severe and close in their sect and party,
they might roll in lustful thoughts ; and the
torches they light up in the temple, might smoke
with anger at one end, and lust at the other, so
they did not flame out in egressions of violence
and injustice, in adulteries and Ibuler complications :
nay, they would give leave to some degrees of evil
actions ; for R. Moses and Sclomoh taught, that if the
most part of a man's actions w^ere holy and just,
though in one he sinned often, yet the greater ingre-

Serm. XII. op lukewarmness and zeal. 2S1

client should prevail, and the number of good works
should outweigh the lesser account of evil things ;
and this pharisaical righteousness is too frequent even
anion;!: Christians. For who almost is there that
does not count fairly concernnig hmiself, if he
reckons many virtues upon the stock of his religion,
and but one vice upon the stock of his infirmity ;
half a dozen to God, and one for his company, or his
friend ; his education, or his appetite } and if he hath
parted from his folly, yet he will remember the flesh-
pots, and please himself with a fantastick sin, and call
it home through the gates of his memory, and place
it at the door of fancy, that there he may behold it,
and consider concerning what he hath parted withal,
out of the fears and terrours of relia'ion, and a neces-
sary unavoidable conscience. Do not many men go
from sin to sin, even in their repentance ? they go
backward from sin to sin, and change their crime
as a man changes his uneasy load, and shakes it off
from one shoulder to support it with the other. How
many severe persons, virgins, and widows, are so
pleased with tiieir chastity, and their abstinence even
from lawful mixtures, that by this means they fall
into a worse pride ; insomuch that 1 remember St,
Austin said, aiideo dicere sifperbis contincniibiis expedit
eadere^ they that are chaste and proud, it is some-
times a remedy for them to fall into sin, and by the
shame of lust to cure the devil of pride, and by the
sin of the body, to cure the worser evils of the spirit;
and therefore he adds, that he did believe, God iri
a severe mercy did permit the barbarous nations,
breaking in upon the Roman empire, to violate many
virgins professed in cloisters and religious families,
to be as a mortiiicatlon of their pride, lest the acci-
dental advantages of a continent life should bring
them into the certain miseries of a spiritual death, by
taking away their humility, which was more necessa-

132 OF LUKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. (b'erm. Xll.

ry than llieir virgin stale : it is not a cure that men
may use, but God permits it sometimes with gieater
safety through liis wise conduct and over-ruhng pro-
vidence ; St. Peter was safer by his fall, (as it fell out
in the event of things,) than by his former confi-
dence. Man must never cure a sin by a sin; but
he that brings good out of our evil, he can when he
please. But I speak it, to represent how deceitfully
many times we do the work of the Lord. We re-
prove a sinning brother, but do it with a pompous
spirit ; we separate from scandal, and do it with glory,
and a gaudy heart; we are charitable to the poor,
but will not forgive our unkind enemies; or, we pour
relief into their bags, but we please ourselves and
drink drunk, and hope to commute with God, giving
the fruit of our labours or effluxes of money for the
sin of our souls : and upon this account it is, that
two of the noblest graces of a Christian are to very
many persons made a savour of death, though they
were intended for the beginning and the promotion
of an eternal life ; and those are faith and charity.
Some men think if they have faith, it is enough to
answer all the accusations of sin, which our con-
sciences or the devils make against us : if 1 be a wan-
ton person, yet my faith shall hide it, and faith shall
cover the follies of drunkenness, and I may all my
life rely upon faith at last to quit my scores. For he
that is most careful is not innocent, but must be saved
by faith; and he that is least careful may have faith,
and that will save him. But because these men mis-
take concerning faith, and consider not, that charity
era good life is a part of that faith that saves us, they
hope to be saved by the word, they fill their bellies
with the story of Frimalcioii's banquet, and drink
drunk witli the news of wine ; they eat shadows, and
when they are drowning, catch at the image of the

Serrn. XII. of mtkewarmnrss akd zeal. 233

trees, which hang over the water, and are reflected
from the bottom.

But thus many men do with charity^ [Give alms^
and all things shall be clean unto you., said our blessed
Saviour ;] and therefore many keep a sin ahve, and
make account to pay for it, and God shall be put to
relieve his own poor at the price of the sin of an-
other of his servants; charity will take lust or in-
temperance into protection, and men will not be
kind to their brethren, unless they will be also at
the same time unkind to God. 1 have understood
concerning divers vicious persons, that none have
been so free in their donatives and olferings to reli-
gion and the priest as they: and the hospitals that
have been built, and the highways mended at the
price of souls, are too many for Christendom to boast
of in behalf of charity. But as others mistake con-
cerning faith, so these do concerning its twin-sister*
The first had faith ivithout charity., and these have
chariti/ without hope ; for every one that hath this
hope., that is, the hope of receiving the glorious things
of God promised in the Gospel, purifes himself evert
as God is pure : faith and charity too, must both
suppose repentance ; and repentance is the abolition
of the whole body of sin, the purification of the whole
man. But the sum of the doctrine and case of con-
science in this particular, is this.

1. Charity is a certain cure of sins that are past., not
that are present. He that repents and leaves his sin^
and then relieves the poor, and pays for his folly, by
a diminution of his own estate, and the supplies of the
poor, and his ministering to Christ's poor members^
turns all his former crimes into holiness, he purges
the stains and makes amends for his folly, and com-
mutes for the baser pleasure with a more noble
usage : so said Daniel to JVebuchadnezzar., [Break
Xiff thy sins by righteousness, and thine iniquities by

vo£. h 31

234 OP LUKEWARMNEss AND ZEAL. Serm. XIL

shewing mercy to the poor ;~\* first be just, and then
bo charitable ; for it Is pity, tliat alms, which is one of
the noblest services of God, and the greatest mercy
to thy brother, should be spent upon sin, and thrown
away upon folly.

2. Faith is the remedy of all our evils; but then,
it is never of force ^ but when we either have endea-
voured or undertaken to do all good ; this in baptism,
that alter : faith and repentance at first ; and faith
and charity at last ; and because we fail often by in-
firmity, and sometimes by inadvertency; sometimes
by a surprise, and often by omission; and all this
even in the midst of a sincere endeavour to live justly
and perfectly; therefore the passion of our Lord
pays for this^ and faith lays hold upon that. But
without a hearty and sincere intent, and vigorous
prosecution of all the parts of our duty, faith is but a
word, not so much as a cover to a naked bosom, nor
a pretence big enough to deceive persons, that are
not willing to be cozened.

3. The bigger ingredient of virtue and evil actions
will prevail, but it is only when virtue is habitual
and sins are single, interrupted, casual and seldom^
without choice and without affection ; that is, when
our repentance is so timely, that it can work for
God more than we served under the tyranny of sin;
so that if you will account the whole life of man,
the rule is good, and the greater ingredient shall
prevail; and he shall certainly be pardoned and ex-
cepted, whose life is so reformed, whose repentance
is so active, whose return is so early, that he hath
given bigger portions to God than to God's enemy.
But if we account so, as to divide the measures in
present possession, the bigger part cannot prevail ;
a small or a seldom sin spoils not the sea of piety ;

^ * Dan. iv. 27.

Serm. XII. of lukewarmness and zeal. 235

but when the airectlon is divided, a Httle ill destroys
the whole body of good; the cup in a man's right
hand must be m^^k Ki>ci^^(r.uivoc, it must be pure al-
though it be mingled; tiiat is, the whole anection
must be for God, that must be pure and unmingled;
if sin mingles in seldom and unapproved instances,
the drops of water are swallowed up with a whole
vmtage of piety, and the bigger ingredient is the
prevaihng; in all other cases it is not so; for one
sin, that we choose and love and delight in, will not
be excused by twenty virtues : and as one broken
link dissolves the union of the whole chain, and
one jarring untuned string spoils the whole musick;
so is every sin that seizes upon a portion of our af-
fections; if we love one, that one destroys the ac-
ceptation of all the rest : and as it is in faith, so it
is in charity. He that is a heretick in one article,
hath no saving faith in the whole; and so does
every vicious habit, or unreformed sin, destroy the
excellency of the grace of charity; a wilful errour in
one article is heresy, and every vice in one instance
is malice, and they are perfectly contrary, and a di-
rect darkness to the two eyes of the soul, faith and
chariii/,

4. There is one deceit more yet, in the matter of
the extension of our duty, destroying the integrity
of its constitution; for they do the work of God
deceitfully, who tliink God sufficiently served with
abstinence from evil, and converse not in the acqui-
sition and pursuit of holy charity and religion.
This Clemens Alexandrinus aliirms of the Pharisees,
they were (wsr* A7rc;xj^y kclmv S'^ixiou/jimi, they hoped to be
justified by abstinence from things forbidden ; but
if we will be ^^aiKntu, sons of the kingdom, we must

besides this, and supposing a proportionable perfec-

?86 OK LCKEWARMNES3 AND ZRAL. Scmi. X//,

tion in such an innocence, we must love our bro-
ther and tlo good to liim, and glorify God by a holy
religion, in the communion of saints, in faith and
sacraments, in alms and counsel, in forgivenesses and
assistances. Flee from evil^ mid do the thing that is
j^ood, and dwell for evermore^ said the spirit of God
m the Psalms : and St. Peter [having escaped the
corruption that is in the irorld throjigh lust, give all
diligence to add to your faith virtue, to virtue patience^
to patience godliness, and brotherly kindness, and cha-
rity.^ Many persons think themselves fairly assoil-
ed, because they are no adulterers, no rebels, no
drunkards, not of scandalous lives ; in the mean
time, like the Laodiceans, they are naked and poor;
they have no catalogue of good things registered
in heaven, no treasures in the repositoiies of the
poor, neither have the poor often prayed concern-
ing tliem. Lord remember thy servants for this thing
at the day of judgment. A negative religion is in
many things the effects of laws, and the appendage
of sexes, the product of education, the issues of
company and of the publick, or the daughter of
fear and natural modesty, or their temper and con-
stitution, and civil relations, common fame, or ne-
cessarv interest. Few women swear and do the
debaucheries of drunkards; and they are guarded
fi'om adulterous complications by spies and shame,
by fear and jealousy, by the concernment of fami-
lies, and reputation of their kindred, and therefore
they are to account with God beyond this civil and
necessary innocence, for humility and patience,
for religious Aiucies and tender consciences, for
tending the sick and dressing the poor, for govern-
inn- their house and nursing their children ; and so
it is in every state of life, \^'hcn a prince or pre-
late, a noble and a rich person, hath reckoned all his
immunities and degrees of innocence from those

Serm. XTT. of LUKEWARMisrEss and zeal. 23f

evils that are incident to inferiour persons, or the
worser sort of tlieir own order, they do the work of
the Lordi and their own too, very deceitfully^ unless
they account correspondencies of piety to all their
powers and possibilities; they are to reckon and
consider concerning wliat oppressions they have re-
lieved, what causes and what fatherless they have
defended, how the work of God and of religion, of
justice and charity, hath thrived in their hands.
If they have made peace, and encouraged religion
by their example and by their laws, by rewards and
collateral encouragements, if they have been zealous
for God and for religion, if they have employed ten
talents to the improvement of God's bank, then
they have done God^s work faithfully ; if they ac-
count otherAvise, and account only by cyphers and
negatives, they can expect only the rewards of inno-
cent slaves ; they shall escape the furca and the
wheels the torments of lustful persons, and the crown
of tlames, that is reserved for the ambitious; or they
shall not be gnawn with the vipers of the envious, or
the shame of the ungrateful ; but they can never up-
on this account hope for the crowns of martyrs, or
the honourable rewards of saints, the coronets of vir-
gins, and chaplets of doctors and confessors : and
though murderers and lustful persons, the proud and
the covetous, the heretick and schismatick are to ex-
pect flames and scorpions, pains and smart, {poenam
sensus, the schools call it ;) yet the lazy and the im-
perfect, the harmless sleeper and the idle worker,
shall have the poenam damni, the loss of all his hopes,
and the dishonours of the loss ; and in the sum of af-
fairs it will be no great diiference whether we have
loss or pain^ because there can be no greater pain
imaginable than to lose the sight of God to eternal
ages.

238 OP LUKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. Scrm. XIL

5. Hither are to be reduced as deceitful woikers,
those that promise to God, but mean not to pay what
thej once intended ; people that are conlident in the
day of ease, and fail in the danger ; they that pray
passionately for a grace, and if it be not obtained at
that price, go no faither, and never contend in action
for what they seem to contend in prayer; such as de-
light in forms and outsides, and regard not the sub-
stance and design of every institution ; that think it a
great sin to taste bread before the receiving the holy
sacrament, and yet come to communicate with an am-
bitious and revengeful soul ; that make a conscience
of eating flesh, but not of drunkenness ; that keep
old customs and old sins together ; that pretend one
duty to excuse another; religion against charity, or
piety to parents against duty to God, private promises
against publick duty, the keeping of an oath against
breaking of a commandment, honour against modesty,
reputation against piety, the love of the world in ci-
vil instances to countenance enmity against God j
these are the deceitful workers of God's work ; thej
make a schism in the duties of religion, and a war in
heaven worse than that between Michael and the
dragon ; for they divide the spirit of God, and dis-
tinguish his commandments into parties and factions;
by seeking an excuse, sometimes they destroy the
integrity and perfect constitution of duty, or they do
something whereby the efl'ect and usefulness of the
duty is hindered : concerning all which this only can
be said, they who serve God with a lame sacrifice
and an imperfect duty, a duty defective in its consti-
tuent parts, can never enjoy God; because he can
never be divided : and though it be better to enter
into heaven with one foot, and one eye, than that
both should be cast into hell, because heaven can
make recompense for this loss ; yet nothing can re-

Serm. XIII. of lukewarmness and zeal. 239

pair his loss, who for being lame In his duty shall en-
ter Into hell, where nothing is perfect, but the mea-
sures and duration of torment, and thej both are
next to infinite.

SERMON XIII.

PART. II.

2. The next Inquiry, Is Into the intention of our
duty : and here it will not be amiss to change the
word fraudulenter^ or dolose^ into that which some
of the Latin copies do use, maledictus qui facit opus
Dei [negli^enter ;] cursed is he., that doth the work of
the Lord negligently^ or remissly : and it implies, that
as our duty must be whole, so it must be fervent;
for a languishing body may have all its parts, and
yet be useless to many purposes of nature : and you
may reckon all the joints of a dead man, but the heart
is cold, and the joints are stiif and fit for nothing but
for the little people that creep in graves ; and so are
very many men, if you sum up the accounts of their
religion, they can reckon days and months of reli-
gion, various offices, charity and prayers, reading and
meditation, faith and knowledge, catechism and sa-
craments, duty to God, and duty to princes, paying
debts and provision for children, confessions and
tears, discipline in families, and love of good people ;
and it may be, you shall not reprove their numbers,
or find any lines unfilled in their tables of accounts;
but when you have handled all this, and considered,

240 OF l.UKE\VARMNESS AND ZEAL. »Ve<VH. Xllli

you will lind at last you have taken a dead man by
the hand; there is not a finger wanting, but they are
stilFas icicles, and without llexure, as the legs of ele-
phants: such are they whom St. Bernard describes,
" whose s{3iritual joy is allayed with tediousness,
whose compunction for sin is short and seldom,
whose thoughts are animal and their designs secular,
whose religion is lukewarm; their obedience is
without devotion, their discourse without profit,
their prayer Avithout intention of heart, their
reading without instruction, their meditation is
without spiritual advantages," and is not the com-
mencement and strengthening of holy purposes ; and
they are such whom modesty will not restrain, nor
reason bridle, nor discipline correct, nor the fear of
death and hell can keep from yielding to the impe-
riousness of a foolish lust, that dishonours a man's
understanding, and makes his reason, in which he
most glories, to be weaker than the discourse of a
girl, and the dreams of the night. In every action of
religion God expects such a warmth, and a holy
fire to go along, that it may be able to enkindle the
wood upon the altar, and consume the sacrifice ; but
God hates an indiiferent spirit. Earnestness and
vivacity, quickness and delight, perfect choice of the
service, and a delight in the prosecution, is all that
the spirit of a man can yield towards his religion:
the outward work is the elfect of the body ; but if a
man does it heartily and Avith all his mind, then
religion hath wings and moves upon wheels of hre :
and therefore when our blessed Saviour made those
capitulars and canons of religion, to love God, and to
love our neighbour ; besides that the material part of
the duty [/oye] is founded in the spirit, as its natural
seat, he also gives three words to involve the spirit
in the action, and but one for the body : Thou shalt love
the Lord thy God tvith all thine heart , and with all thy

^er7n. XTIT. op lukewarrmness and zeal. 241

soul^ and with all thy mind; and, lastly^ with all thy
strength; this brinc^s in tlie body too; because
it hath some strength, and some significations of
its own; but heart ^.nd soul and mind mean all the
same thing in a stronger and more earnest expres-
sion ; that is, that we do it hugely, as much as we
can, with a clear choice, with a resolute under-
standing, with strong atfections^ with great dili-
gence : enerves animos odisse virtus solet, virtue hates
weak and ineffective minds, and tame easy prosecu-
tions ; Loripedes^ people whose arm is all flesh, whose
foot is all leather, and an unsupporting skin; they
creep like snakes, and pursue the noblest mysteries
of relio"ion, as JVaaman did the mysteries of Rim"
mon, orAy in a coni:)hment, or for secular regards;
but without the mind, and therefore without zeal: I
ivould thou ivert either hot or cold, said the spirit oi
God to the angel or bishop of Laodicea. In feasts
or sacrifices the ancients did use apponere frigidam,
or calidam; sometimes they drank hot drink, some-
times they poured cold upon their graves, or in theif
wines, but no services of tables or altars were ever
with lukewarm. God hates it worse than stark
cold ; which expression is the more considerable,
because in natural and superinduced progressions^
from extreme to extreme, we must necessarily pass
through the midst ; and therefore it is certain, a
lukewarm religion is better than none at all, as be-
ing the doing some parts of the work designed, and
nearer to perfection than the utmost distance could
be, and yet that God hates it more, must mean, that
there is some appendant evil in this state which id
not in the other, and that accidentalli/ it is much,
worse : and so it is, if we rightly understand it j
that is, if we consider it, not as a being in or passing
through the middle way, but as a state and a period
©f religion. If it be in motion, a lukewarm religion
VOL. I. 32

242 OF LUKEWARMNK88 AND ZHAl.. Senil. XllL

is pleasing to God; for God hates it not for its im-
pel fection, and its natural measures of proceeding;
but if it stands still and rests there, it is a state
against the designs, and against the perfection of
God ; and it hath in it these evils :

I. It is a state of the greatest imprudence in the
"vvoild ; for it makes a man to spend his labour for
that which proHls not, and to deny his appetite for
an unsatisfying interest; he puts his monies in a
napkin, and he that does so, puts them into a broken
bag; he loses the principal for not increasing the
interest. He that dwells in a state of life that is
unacceptable, loses the money of his alms, and the
rewards of his charity, his hours of prayer, and his
parts of justice, he confesses his sins and is not par-
cloned, he is patient but hath no hope, and he
that is gone so far out of his country, and stands in
the middle way, hath gone so far out of his way; he
had better have stayed under a dry roof, in the house
of banishment, than to have left his Gyarus, the
island of his sorrow, and to dwell upon the J^driatick:
so is he that beo-ins a state of religion, and does not
finish it; he abides in the highway, and though
he be nearer tlie place, yet is as far from the rest of
his country as ever; and therefore all that begin-
mvi'f of labour was in the prejudice of his rest, but
nothing to the advantages of his hopes. He that
hatii never begun, hath lost no labour ; jactiira
praeteritorum^ the loss of all that he hath done,
is the first evil of the negligent and lukewarm Chris-
tian : according to the saying of Solomon^ he that
is remiss or idle in his labour^ is the brother of him that
scatterrth his goods*

2. The second appendant evil is, that lukeuarm-
ness is the occasion oj greater evil; because the re-

* Proy. xviii. 9.

Serm. XIII. op lukewarmnkss an© zeal. 243

miss, easy Christian shuts the gate against the
heavenly breathings of God's holy spirit; he thinks
every breath, that is fanned by the wings of the
holy Dove, is not intended to encourage his tires,
which burn, and smoke, and peep through the cioud
already ; it tempts him to security : and if an evil
life be a certain in-let to a second death, despair on
one side, and security on the other, are the bars and
locks to that door, he can never pass forth again
while that state remains; whoever sHps in his spi-
ritual walking does not presently fall ; hut if that
slip does not awaken his diilgence, and hi. caution,
then his ruin begins, vel pravae instituttonis deceptus
exordia, ant per longam mentis incuriam, et virtute
animi decidente, as St. Austin observes ; either upon
the pursuit of his first errour, or by a careless spirit,
or a decaying slackened resolution ; all which are
the direct etfects of lukewarmness. But so have I
seen a fair structure bej^un with art and care, and
raised to half its stature, and then it stood still by
the misfortune or neijli<>:ence of the owner, and the
rain descended, and dwelt in its joints, and sup-
planted the contexture of its pillars, and having
stood a while like the antiquated temple of a de-
ceased oracle, it fell into a hasty age, and sunk upon
its own knees, and so descended into ruin : so is the
imperfect, unfinished spirit of a man; it lays the foun-
dation of a holy resolution, and strengthens it with
vows and arts of prosecution, it raises up the walls,
sacraments, and prayers, reading, and holy ordinan-
ces; and holy actions begin with a slow motion, and
the building stays, and the spirit is weary, and the
soul is naked, and exposed to temptations, and in the
days of storm takes in every thing that can do it mis-
chief; and it is faint and sick, listless and tired, and
it stands till its own weight wearies the foundation,
aad then declines to death and sad disorder; being

244 OF LUKEWARMWESS AND ZEAL. Scrm. XIII.

SO much the worse, because it hath not only returned
to its first follies, but hatb superadded unthankful-
ness and carelessness, a positive neglect and a despite
of holy things, a setting a low price to the things of
God, laziness and wretchlcssness ; all which are evils
superadded to the first state of coldness, whither he
is with all these loads and circumstances of death
easily revolved.

3. A state of lukewarmness is more incorrigible
than a state of coldness ; while men flatter them-
selves, that their state is good, that they are rich and
need nothing, that their lamps are dressed, and full
of ornament. There are many that think they are in
their country as soon as ever they are weary, and mea-
sure not the end of their hopes by the possession of
them, but bv theirprecedent labour, which they over-
value, because they have easy and etfcminate souls.
St, Bernard complains of some that say, siijfficit nobis.,
nolumus esse meliores qnam patres nostri ; it is enough
for us to be as our fore-fathers, who were honest and
useful in their generations, but be tiot over-righteous.
These men are such as think they have knowledge
enough to need no teacher, devotion enough to need
no new fires, perfection enough to need no new pro-

fress, justice enough to need no repentance; and then
ecause the spirit of a man and all the things of this
world are in perpetual variety and change, these men
decline when they have gone their period ; thej
stand still, and then reveit; like a stone returning
from the bosom of a cloud, where it rested as long as
the thought of a child, and fell to its natural bed of
earth, and dwelt below for ever. He that says he
will take care he be no worse, and that he desires to
be no better, stops his journey into heaven, but can-
not be secure against his descending into hell. And
Cassicm spake a hard sa\ing, frequenter vidimus de
frigidis <?t carnalibus ad spiritualem venisse fervorcWii

Serm. XIII. of lukewarmness and zeal. 245

de tepidis et animalihus omnino non vidimus ; many per-
sons, from vicious, and dead, and cold, have passed
into life and an excellent grace, and a spiritual
warmth, and holy fires ; but from lukewarm and in-
different never any body came to an excellent con-
dition, and state of holiness : rarissime^ St. Bernard
says, very extremely seldom ; and our blessed Sa-
viour said something of this. The publicans and
the harlots go before you into the kingdom of heaven ;
they are moved by shame, and punished by dis-

frace, and remarked by punishments, and frighted
y the circumstances and notices of all the world,
and separated from sober persons by laws and an
intolerable character, and the sense of honour, and
the care of their persons, and their love of civil so-
ciety, and e\ery thing in the world can invite them
towards virtues. But the man that is accounted
honest, and does justice, and some things of religion,
unless he finds himself but upon his way, and feels
his wants, and groans under the sense of his infir-
mities, and sighs under his imperfections, and ac-
counts himself not to have comprehended, but still
presses towards the mark of his calling ; unless, I say,
he still increases in his appetites of religion, as he
does in his progression, he will think he needs no
counsellor, and the spirit of God whispers to an ear,
that is already filled with noises, and cannot attend
to the heavenly calling. The stomach, that is al-
ready full, is next to loathing ; and that is the pro-^
logue to sickness, and a rejecting the first wholesome
nutriment, which was entertained to relieve the first
natural necessities : (jui non proficit, vult defcere, smd
St. Bernard : he that goes not forward in the love of
God, and of religion, does not stand still, but goes
for all that ; but whither such a motion will lead him,
himself without a timely care shall feel by an intoie-^
rable experiment.

246 OF LUKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. Sevm. XIII.

In this sense and for these reasons it is, that al-
thouo;h a kikcwarm Christian hath o;one forward some
steps towards a state of hohness, and is advanced be-
yond him that is cold, and dead, and unconcerned ;
and theiefore, speaking absobitcly and naturally., is
nearer the kingdom of God than he that is not jet
set out; yet accidentally., and by reason of these ill
appendages, he is worse, in greater danger, in a state
equally unacceptable, and therefore must either go
forward, and still do the work of God carefuilj and
diligently, with a fervent spirit and an active hand,
with a willing heart and a cheerful eye, or it had been
better he had never begun.

2. It concerns us next to inquire concerning the
1 • • • 1 •

duty in its proper instances, that we may perceive to

what parts and degrees of duty it amounts ; we shall

find it especially in the duties oi faith., ofprayer, and

of charity.

1. Our faith must be strong, vigorous, active, con-
fident, and patient, reasonable and unalterable, with-
out doubting, and fear, and partiality : for the faith
of very many men seems a duty so weak and indif-
ferent, is so often untwisted by violence, or ravelled
and entanirled in weak discourses, or so false and
fallacious by its mixture of interest, that though men
usually put most confidences in the pretences of faith,
yet no pretences are more unreasonable.

1. Our faith and persuasions in religion are most
commonly imprinted in us by our country, and we are
Christians at the same rate as we are English or Spa-
niards., or of such a family ; our reason is first stained
and spotted with the d^c of our kindred and country,
and our education puts it in grain, and whatsoever is
against this we are taught to call a temptation : in
the mean time, we call these accidental and artificial
persuasions by the name of faith., which is only the
air of the country, or an heir-loom of the family, or

8erm. XIII. op lukewarmness and zeal. 247

the daughter of a present Interest. Whatever it was
that brought us in, we are to take care, that when
we are in, our faith be noble, and stand upon its most
proper and most reasonable foundation ; it concerns
us better to understand that religion which we call
faith, and that faith whereby we hope to be saved.

2. The faith and the whole religion of many men
are the production of fear. Men are threatened into
their persuasions ; and the iron rod of a tyrant con-
verts whole nations to his principles, when the wise
discourses of the religion seem dull as sleep, and un-
prevailing as the talk of childhood. That is but a
deceitful faith, which our timorousness begot, and
our weakness nurses and brings up. The religion of
a Christian is immortal and certain, and persuasive,
and infaUible, and unalterable, and therefore needs
not to be received by human and weak convoys, like
worldly and mortal religions. That faith is luke-
warm, and easy, and trifling, which is only a belief
of that which a man wants courage to disbelieve.

3. The faith of many men is such, that they dare
not trust it : they will talk of it, and serve vanity,
or their lust, or their company, or their interest,
by it; but when the matter comes to a pinch, they
dare not trust it. When Antisthenes was initiated
into the mysteries of Orpheus^ the priest told him,
that all that were of that religion immediately after
death should be perfectly happy;* the philosopher
asked iiim, Why he did not die, if he believed what
he said ? Such a faith as that, was fine to talk
of at table, or eating the sacrifices of the religion,
when the mystick man was «vflsoc, full of wine and
flesh, of confidence and religion ; but to die, is a
more material consideration, and to be chosen upon

* His qui sacris visis abeunt ad inferos homines beati sunt, solis
quia vivere coutiDgit illic istis ; turba caetera omaiuBi maloram
Seaeri iacidit.

248 OK Lt'KEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. Semi. XIlt>

no grounds, but such a faith which really comes
from God, and can secure our reason, and our
choice, and perfect our interest and designs. And it
hath been long observed conceining those bold
people, that use their reason against God that gave
it, they have one persuasion in their health, and
another in their sickness and fears ; when they are
well, they blaspheme ; when they die, they are su-
perstitious. It was Bias's case, when he was poisoned
by the atheisms of Theodorus ; no man died more
like a coward and a fool; as if the gods were to come
and go as Bias pleased to think and talk : so one said
of his folly. If God be to be feared when we die, he
is also to be feared in all our life, for he can for ever
make us die : he that will do it once, and that when
he pleases, can always. And therefore all those
persuasions against God, and against religion, are
only the production of vicious passions, of drink or
fancy, of confidence and ignorance, of boldness or vile
appetites, of vanity or fierceness, of pride or flatte-
ries ; and atheism is a proportion so unnatural and
monstrous, that it can never dwell in a man's heart
as faith does., in health and sickness, in peace and
war, in company and alone, at the beginning and at
the end of a design ; but comes from weak principles,
and leaves shallow and superficial impressions ; but
wiien men endeavour to strengthen and confirm it,
they only strive to make themselves worse than they
can. Naturally a man cannot be an atheist : for he
that is so, must have something within him that is
worse either than man or devil.

4. Some measure their faith by shows and ap-
pearances, by ceremonies and names, by professions
and little institutions. Diogenes was angry at the
silly priest, that thought he should be immortal be-
cause he was a priest, and would not promise so
concerning Jlgesilaus and Epaminondas* two noble

Serm. XIH. of lukewarmness and zeal. 249

Greeks, that had preserved their country, and Hved
virtuously. The faith of a Christian hath no signi-
fication at all but obedience and charity. If nien
be just, and charitable, and good, and live according
to their faith, then only they are Christians : what-
soever else is pretended is but a shadow and the
image of a grace; for since in all the sects and in-
stitutions of the world, the professors did in some
reasonable sort conform to the rules of the profes-
sion, (as appears in all the schools of philosophers,
and religions of the world, and the practices of the
Jews, and the usages and the country-customs of
the Turks,) it is a strange dishonour to Christianity,
that in it alone men should pretend to the faith of
it, and do nothing of what it persuades and coni-
mands upon the account of those promises which it
makes us to believe. He that means to please God
by his faith, must have his faith begotten in him by
■ the spirit of God, and proper arguments of religion ;
he must profess it without fear, he must dare to die
for it, and resolve to live according to its institu-
tion ; he must grow more confident, and more holy,
have fewer doubtings and more virtues; he must
be resolute and constant, far from indifferency, and
above secular regards; he must by it regulate his
life, and value it above his life; he must contend
earnestly for the faith, by the most prevailing argu-
ments, by the arguments of holy living and ready
dying, by zeal and patience, by conformity and hu-
mility, by reducing words to actions, fair discourses
to perfect persuasions, by loving the article, and in-
er easing in the knowledge and love of God and his Son
Jesus Christ ; and then his faith is not negligent, de-
ceitful, artificial, and improper ; but true, and holy, and
reasonable, and useful, zealous and sufficient, and there-
fore can never be reproved.
VOL. r. .33

250 OF LUKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. Scnil. XIII.

2. Our prayers and devotions* must be fervent
and zealous, not cold, patient, easy, and soon reject-
ed; but supported by a patient spirit, set forwards by
importunity, continued by perseverance, waited on
by attention and a present mind, carried along with
holy but strong desires, and ballasted with resignation
and conformity to the divine will ; and then it is, as
God likes it, and does the woik to God's glory and
our interest etfectively. He that asks with a doubt-
ing mind, and a lazy desire, begs for nothing but to
be denied : we must in our prayers be earnest and
fervent, or else we shall have but a cold answer; for
God gives his grace according as we can receive it ;
and whatsoever evil returns we meet in our prayers,
when we ask for good things, is wholly by reason of
our wandering spirits and cold desires ; we have
reason to complain that our minds wander in our pray-
ers, and our diversions are more prevailing than all
our arts of application and detention ; and we wander
sometimes even when we pray against wandering; and
it is in some degrees natural and inevitable. But al-
though the evil is not wholly to be cured, yet the
symptoms are to be eased; and if our desires were
strong and fervent, our minds would in the same
proportion be present : we see it by a certain arsd re-
gular experience ; what we love passionately, we
perpetually think oji, and it returns upon us whether
Ave will or no ; and in a great fear, the apprehension
cannot be shaken olf; and therefore if our desires of
holy tilings were strong and earnest, we should most
certainly attend our prayers. It is a more violent af-
fection to other things that carries us olffiora this;
and therefore if we loved passionately what we ask
for daily, we should ask with hearty deshes, and an
earnest appetite, and a present spirit ; and how-

"'■ See Sermons on " TIip Return of Prayer," part 2.

Serm. Xttl. of lukewarmktess and zeaL. 251

ever it be very easy to have our thoughts wandt.r,
yet it is our indiffereiicy and lukewarmness that
makes it so natural : and you may observe it, that
so long as the light shines bright, and the hres of de-
votion and desires flame out, so long the mind of a
man stands close to the altar, and w aits upon the sa-
crifice ; but as the fires die and desires decay, so the
mind steals away, and walks abroad to see the
little images of beauty and pleasure, which it be-
holds in the falling stars and little glow-worms of
the world. The river that runs slow and creeps
by the banks, and begs leave of every turf to let it
pass, is drawn into little hollownesses, and spends
itself in smaller portions, and dies with diversion ;
but when it runs with vigorousness and a full stream,
and breaks down every obstacle, making it even
as its own brow, it stays not to be tempted by
little avocations, and to creep into holes, but runs
into the sea through full and useful channels : so is
a man's prayer; if it moves upon the feet of an
abated appetite, it wanders into the society of every
trilling accident, and stays at the corners of the
fancy, and talks with every object it meets, and
cannot arrive at heaven ; but when it is carried
upon the wings of passion and strong desires, a
swift motion and a hungry appetite, it passes on
through all the intermedial regions of clouds, and
stays not till it dwells at the foot of the throne,
where mercy sits, and thence sends holy showers of
refreshment. I deny not but some little drops will
turn aside, and fall from the full channel by the
weakness of the banks, and hoUownessof the passage;
but the main course is still continued : and although
the most earnest and devout persons ke\ and com-
plain of some looseness of spirit, and unfixed atten-
tions, yet their love and their desire secure the main

2.52 OP LUKBWARMN'ESS AND ZEAL. >SVr»N XIII.

portion's, and make the prayer to be strong, fervent,
and effectual. Any thing can be done by him, that
earnestly desires what he ought: secure but your
aiioctions and passions, and then no teni})tation will
be too strong : a wise man^ and a full resolution^ and
an earnest spirit^ can do any thing of duty ; but every
temptation prevails, when we are willing to die: and
Ave usually lend nothing to devotion but the officeis
that flatter our passions: we can desire and pray for
any thing, that may serve our lust, or promote those
ends which we covet, but ought to fear and flee from:
but the same earnestness, if it were transplanted into
religion and our prayers, would serve all the needs
of the spirit ; but for want of it we do the Lord''s
work deceiifdly.

3. Our charity also must be fervent: mains est
miles qui ducern smmi gemens seqidtur^ he that follows
his general with a heavy march, and a heavy heart,
is but an ill soldier: but our duty to God should be
hugely pleasing, and we should rejoice in it : it must
pass on to action, and do the action vigorously : it is
called in Scripture xo^oca>a!Tw, the labour and travail of
love ; a friend at a sneeze^ and an alms-basket fvll of
prayers, a love that is lazy, and a service that is use-
less, and a pity without support, are the images and
colours of that grace, whose very constitution and
design is, beneficence and well-doing. He that loves
passionately, will not only do all that his friend needs,
but all that himself can; for although the law of
charity is fulfilled by acts of profit, and bounty, and
obedience, and labour, yet it hath no other incasures but
the proportions and abundance of a good mind :
and according to this God requires that \^c be
jrtg/iro-Et/cvTK fv t» «g7» tov iiv^icv, abounding, and that akcays in
the ivork of the Lord ; if we love passionately, we
shall do all this, for love endures labour and calls it
pleasure, it spends all and counts it a gain, it sufferf^

Serm. XIII. of LUicEArARMNEss and zeal. 263

inconveniences and is quickly reconciled to them ; if
dishonours and affronts be to be endured, love smiles
and calls them favours, and wears them willingly.

aliijacuere ligati

Tiirpiter, atque aliqiiis de Diis non tristibus optat
Sic fieri tiirpis, *

It is the Lord^ said David, and / icill yet Ze more vile,
and it shall be honour unto me ; thus did the dis-
ciples of our Lord go from tribunals rejoicing, that
they were accounted ivorthy to svffer stripes for that
beloved name ; and we are commanded to rejoice in
persecutions, to resist unto blood, to strive to enter in at
the strait gate, not to be weary of well-doing ; do it
hugely, and do it always. J^on enim votis neque sup-
pliciis mulieribus auxilia deorum parantur ; sed vigi-
lando, agendo, bene consulendo omnia prospere cedunt.
No man can obtain the favour of God by words and
imperfect resolutions, by lazy actions and a remiss
piety ; but by severe counsels and sober actions, by
watchfulness and prudence, by doing excellent things
with holy intentions and vigorous prosecutions. Ubi
socordiae et ignaviae te tradideris, nequicqnam Deos im-
plorabis : If your virtues be lazy, your vices will be
bold and active : and therefore Democritus said well,
that the painful and the soft-handed people in religion
differ just as good men and bad ; nimirum spe bona^
the labouring charity hath a good hope, but a cool
religion hath none at all; and the distinction will
have a sad effect to eternal ages.

These are the great scenes of duty, in which we
are to be fervent and zealous ; but because earnest-

* O shameful sight ! if shameful that we name.
Which Gods with envy view'd, and could not blame ;
But for the pleasure wish'd to share the shame.

Garth.

OT LUKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. Scrm. XIII.

ness and zeal are circumstances of a great latitude^
and the zeal of the present age is stark cold, if com-
pared to the fervours of the Apostles, and other holy
primitives ; and in every age a good man's care may
turn into scruple, if he sees that he is not the best
man, because he may reckon his own estate to stand
In the confines of darkness, because his spark is not
so great as his neighbour's fires, therefore it is fit that
\ve consider concerning the degrees of the intention
and forward heats ; for when we have found out the
lowest degrees of zeal, and a holy fervour, we know
that duty dwells there, and whatsoever is above it^
Is a degree of excellence ; but all that is less than it*
is lukewarm?iess, and the state of an ungracious and
an unaccepted person.

1, No man is fervent and zealous as he ought^
but he that prefers religion before business, charity
before his own ease, the relief of his brother before
iiioney, heaven before secular regards, and God be-
fore his friend or interest. Which rule is not to be
understood absolutely and in particular instances, but
&\W3.y a generally ; and when it descends to particu-
lars, it must be in proportion to circumstances, and
by their proper measures : for,

1* In the ivhole course of life it is necessary, that
WC prefer religion before any slate that is either con"
irary to it, or a lessening oj its duties. He that hath
a state of life, in which he cannot at all in fair pro-
portions tend to religion, must quit great propor-
tions of that, that he may enjoy ujore of tliis ; this
is that which our blessed Saviour calls pulling out the
fight eye if it offend thee.

2. In particular actions, when the necessity is equal,
he that does not prefer religion, is not at all zealous ;
for although all natural necessities are to be served
before the circumstances and order of religion, yet
Hur belly and our back, our liberty and our life, our

Serm. XIII. of lttkewarmness and zeal. 255

health and a friend, are to be neglected, rather than
a duty when it stands in its proper place, and is re-
quired.

3. Although the things of God are by a necessary zeal
to be preferred before the things of the world ; yet we
must take heed, that we do not reckon religion, and
orders of worshipping, only to be the thitigs of God,
and all other duties to be the things of the world;
for it was a pharisaical device to cry corban<, and to
refuse to relieve their aged parents : it is good to give
to a church, but it is better to give to the poor ; and
though they must be both provided for, yet in cases
of dispute mercy carries the cause against religion
and the temple. And although j\Iary was com-
mended for choosing the better part, yet Mary had
done worse, if she had been at the foot of her Mas-
ter, when she should have relieved a perishing bro-
ther. Martha was troubled with much serving ;
that was more than need, and therefore she was to
blame; and sometimes hearing in some circumstancess
may be more than needs ; and some women are iroU'
bled ivith over much hearing, and then they had better
have been servino: the necessities of their house.

4. This rule is not to be extended to the relatives
of religion; for although the things of the spirit
are better than the things of the world, yet a spiri-
tual man is not in human regards to be preferred
before princes and noble personages. Because a
man is called spiritual in several regards, and for
various measures and manners of partaking of the
spirit of grace, or co-operating toward the works of
the spirit. A king and a bishop both, have callings
in order to godliness, and honesty, and spiritual ef-
fects, towards the advancement of Christ's king-
dom, whose representatives severally they are. But
whether of these two works more immediately, or
more effectively, cannot at all times be known ; and

256 dv LUKEWARMNEss AND ZEAL. Semi. XIII.

therefore from hence no arofument can be drawn
concerninf^ doin*;^ them civil regards ; and possibly,
the partahiiiir the spirit is a nearer relation to him^
than doing liis ministries, and serving his ends upon
others; and if ralations to God and God's spirit could
bring an obligation of giving pioportlonable civil
honour, every holy man might put in some pretence
for dignities above some kings and some bishops. But
as the things of the spirit are in order to the affairs
of another world, so they naturally can inter only such
a relative dignity, as can be expressed in spiritual
manners. But because such relations are subjected
in men of this life, and we now converse especially
in material and secular significations, therefore we
are to express our regards to men of such relations
by proportionable expressions : but because civil ex-
cellencies are the proper ground of receiving and ex-
actm^ civil honours., and spiritual excellencies do onlj
claim them accidentally, and indirectly, therefore
in titles of honour and human reo^aids, the civil
pre-emi7ience is the appendix of the greatest civil
power and employment., and is to descend in proper
measures ; and for a spiritual relation to challenge a
temporal dignity, is as if the best musick should
challeno;e the best clothes, or a lutestrino; should
contend with a rose for the honour of the greatest
sweetness. Add to this, that although temporal thingi
are in order to spiritual, and therefore are less perfect,,
jet this is not so naturally ; for temporal things are
properly in order to the felicity of man in his pro-
per and present constitution; and it is by a super-
natural grace, that now they are thrust Ibiward to a
higher end of grace and glory; and therefore tem-
poral things^ and persons., and callings., have propeily
the chiefest temporal regard; and Chiist took
nothing of this away from them, but put them high-
er, by sanctifying and ennobling them. But then

Serm. XIII. of lukewarmness and zeal. 237

the higher caHlng- can no more suppose the higher
man, than the richest trade can suppose the richest
man. From caHings to men, the argument is fal-
lacious; and a smith is a more useful man than
he that teaches logick, but not always to be more
esteemed, and called to stand at the chairs of princes
and nobles. Holy persons, and holy things, and all
great relations, are to be valued by general propor-
tions to their correlatives, but if we descend to make
minute and exact proportions, and proportion an
inch of temporal to a minute of spiritual, we must
needs be hugely deceived, unless we could measure
the motion of an angel by a string, or the progres-
sions of the spirit by weight and measure of the
staple. And yet if these measures were taken, it
would be unreasonable that the lower of the higher
kind should be preferred before the most perfect
and excellent in a lower order of things. A man
generally is to be esteemed above a woman, but
not the meanest of her subjects before the most
excellent queen; not always this man before this
woman. Now kings and princes are the best in all
temporal dignities, and therefore if they had in them
no spiritual relations and consequent excellencies, as
they have very many, yet are not to be undervalued
to spiritual relations, which in this world are very
imperfect, weak, partial ; and must stay till the next
world, before they are in a state of excellency, pro-
priety, and perfection ; and then also all shall have
them, according to the worth of their persons, not of
their calling.

But lastly, what men may not challenge, is not
their just and proper due; but spiritual persons
and the nearest relatives to God stand by him, but
so long as they dwell low and safe in humility, and
rise high in nothing but in labours, and zeal of
souls, and devotion. In proportion to this rule, a

VOL. I. 34

258 OF LUKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. SemU XIIT.

church may be pulled down to save a town, and
the vessels of the church may be sold to redrem
captives, when there Is a great calamity imminent,
and prepared for relief and no other way to suc-
cour it.

But in the Avhole, the duty of zeal requires, that
we neglect an ordinary visit lather than an ordinary
prayer, and a great profit rather than omit a required
duty. No excuse can legitimate a sin ; and he that
goes about to distinguish between his duty and his
profit, and if he cannot reconcile them, will }et tie
them together like a hyaena and a dog, this man pre-
tends to religion but secures the world, and is in-
ditferent and lukewarm towards that, so he may be
warm and safe in the possession of this.

2. To that fervour and zeal that is necessary and
a duty, it is required that we be constant and pci'severing.
Esto Jidelis ad mortem, said the spirit of God to the
angel of the church of Smyrna; be faithful unto death,
and I will give thee a crown of life. For he that is
warm to day and cold to morrow, zealous in his re-
solution and weary in his practices, fierce in the be-
ginning and slack and easy in his progress, hath not
yet well chosen what side he will be of; he sees not
reason enouo-h for relifcion, and he hath not confi-
dence enough for its contrary ; and therefore he is
duplicis animi^ as St. James calls him, of a doubtful
mind. For religion is worth as much to day as it was
yesterday, and that cannot change though we do ;
and if we do, we have lelt God, and whither he can
go that goes from God, his own sorrows will soon
enough instruct him. This fiie must never go out,
but it must be hke the lire of heaven, it must shine
like the stars, though sometimes covered with a cloud,
or obscured by a greater light; yet they dwell for
ever in their orbs, and walk in their ciicles, and ob-
serve their circumstances, but go not out by day nor

Serm. Xllt. OF LUKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. 259

night, and set not when kings die, nor are extlnguirh-
ed when nations change their government: so ninst
the zeal of a Christian be a constant incentive of his
duty ; and though sometimes his hand is drawn back
bj violence or need, and his prayers shortened by the
importunity of business, and some parts omitted by
necessities, and just comphances, yet still the fire is
kept alive, it burns within when the light breaks not
fortli, and is etei-nal as the orb of tire, or the embers
of the altar of incense.

3. No man is zealous as he ought, but he that de-
lights in the service of God: without this no man can
persevere, but must faint under the continual pressure
of an uneasy load. If a man goes to his prayers as
children fo to school, or give alms as those that pay
contribution, and meditates with the same willingness
with which young men die, this man does personam
sustinere^ he acts a part wliich he cannot long perso-
nate, but will find so many excuses and silly devises
to omit his duty, such tricks to run from that which
will make him happy ; he will so watch the eyes of
men, and be so sure to do nothing in private ; he will
so often distinguish and mince the duty into minutes
and httle particles, he will so tie himself to the letter
of the law and be so careless of the intention and
spiritual design, he will be punctual in the ceremony
and trifling in the secret, and he will be so well pleased
when he is hindered by an accident, not of his own
procuring, and will have so many devices to defeat
his duty, and to cozen himself, that he will certainly
manifest that he is afraid of religion, and secretly
hates it; he counts it a burthen, and an objection,
and then the man is sure to leave it, when iiis cir-
cumstances are so fitted. But if we delio-ht in it,
we enter into a portion of the reward, as soon as
we begin the work, and the very grace shall be
stronger than the temptation hi its very pretence of

260 OF LUKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. SerW. XIIL

pleasure ; and therefore it must needs be pleasing
to God, because it confesses God to be the best
master, religion the best work, and it serves God
with choice, and will, and reconciles our nature to
it, and entertains our appetite ; and then there is no
ansa or handle left, wheiebj we can easily be drawn
from duty, when all parties are pleased with the em-
ployment. But this delight is not to be understood
as if it were always required, that we should feel
an actual cheerfulness, and sensible joy; such as
was that of Jonalhan^ when he had newly tasted
honey, and the light came into his eyes, and he was
refreshed and pleasant. This happens sometimes,
Avhen God pleases to entice, or reward a man's spi-
rit, with little antepasts of heaven ; but such a de-
light only is necessary, and a duty, that Ave always
choose our duty regularly, and undervalue the plea-
sures of temptation, and proceed in the work of
grace with a iirm choice, and unabated election ; our
joy must be a joy of hope, a joy at the least of con-
tident sufferers, the joys of faith and expectation ;
rejoicin'j; in hope, so the Apostle calls it ; that is, a
going forward upon such a persuasion as sees the
joys of God laid up for the children of men: and
so the sun may shine under a cloud ; and a man may
rejoice in persecution, and delight in losses ; that is,
though his outward man groans, and faints, and dies,
yet his spirit, I «o-a. «v6ga^oc, the inner man, is confident
and industrious, and hath a hope by which it lives
and works unto the end : it Avas the case of our
blessed Saviour in Ins agony ; his soul was exceeditig
sorroicful unto death, and the load of his Father's
anger crushed his shoulder, and boAved his knees to
the ground ; and yet he chose it, and still Avent for-
Avard, and resolved to die, and did so; and A\hat Ave
choose Ave delight in ; and we think it to be eligible,
and therefore amiable, and fit by its proper excel-

Sei'tn. XIV. OF lukewarmness and zeal. 261

lencies and appendages to be delighted in ; it is not
pleasant to the liesh at all times, for its dignity is
spiritual and heavenly ; but therefore it is propor-
tioned to the spirit, which is as heavenly as the re-
ward, and therefore can feel the joys of it, when the
body hangs the head, and is uneasy, and troubled.

These are the necessary parts of zeal ; of which
if any man fails, he is in a state of lukewarmness,
and that is a spiritual death. As a banished man,
or a condemned person is dead civilly ; he is dimi-
nutus capita, he is not reckoned in the cejisih^^ nor
partakes of the privileges, nor goes for a person,
but is reckoned among things in the possession of
others : so is a lukewaim person ; he is corde dimi-
nutus, he is spiritually dead, his heart is estranged
from God, his affections are lessened, his hope di-
minished, and his title cancelled ; and he remains so,
unless, 1. he prefers religion before the world, and,
2. spiritually rejoices in doing his duty, and, 3. does
it constantly, and with perseverance. These are the
heats and warmth of life ; whatsoever is less than
this, is a disease, and leads to the coldness and dis-
honours of the grave.

SERMON XIV.

PART III.

3. So long as our zeal and forwardness in religion
hath only these constituent parts, it hath no more
than can keep the duty alive : but beyond this there
are many degrees of earnestness and vehemence,

262 OP LTIKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. Scrm. XJf.

which are progressions towards the state of perfec-
tion, whicli everj man ouglit to design and desire to
be added to his portion : of this sort 1 reckon fre-
quency in prayer^ and alms above our estate. Con-
corning which two instances, 1 have these two cau-
tions to insert.

1. Concerning frequency in prayer,, it is an act of
zeal so ready and prepared for tlie spirit of a man,
so easy and usefui, so without objection, and so
fitted for every man's ailairs, his necessities and
possibihties, that he that prays but seldom, cannot
m any sense pretend to be a religious pcrsoti. For
in scripture there is no other rule for the frequency
of prayer given us, but by such words which signify
we should do it always, pray continually : and men
ought always to pray and not to faint. And then, men
have so many necessities, that if we should esteem
our needs to be the circumstances and positive
determination of our times of prayer, we should be
very far from admitting limitation of the former
words, but they must mean, that we ought to pray
frequently every day. For in danger and trouble,
natural religion teaches us to pray ; in a festival,
fortune, our prudence, and our needs, enforce us
equally. For though we feel not a present smart,
yet we are certain then is our biggest danger: and
if we observe how the world treats her darlings, men
of riches and honour, of prosperity and great success,
we cannot but confess them to be the most misera-
ble of all men, as being in the greatest danger of
losing their biggest interest. For they are bigger
than the iron hand of law, and they cannot be re-
strained with fear : the hand grasps a power of doing
all that, which their evil heart can desire, and they
cannot be restrained with disability to sin ; they are
flattered by all mean, and base, and indiligent per-
sons, which are the greatest part of mankind j but

Serm. XIV. of lukewarmness and zeal. 26,3

(ew men dare reprove a potent sinner ; he shall every
day be flattered and seldom, counselled: and his great
redections and opinions of his condition makes hira
impatient of reproof, and so he cannot be restrained
with modesty : and therefore as the needs of the poor
man, his rent-day, and the cries of his children, and
the oppression he groans under, and his Jwsrx xow/yof
i^ieifMi., his uneasy ill-sleeping care will make him run
to his prayers, that in heaven a new decree may be
passed every day for the provisions of his daily
bread : so the greater needs of the rich, their temp-
tations, and their dangers, the flattery and the va-
nity, the power, and the pride, tlieir business and evil
estate of the whole world upon them, calls upon them
to be zealous in this instance that they pray often., that
they/?ray without ceasing; for there is great reason they
should do so, and great security and advantage, if
they do: for he that prays well and prays often., must
needs be a good and a blessed man ; and truly he
that does not, deserves no pity for his misery. For
when all the troubles and dangers of his condition
may turn into his good, if he will but desire they
should, when upon such easy terms he may be
happy, for there is no more trouble in it than this,
ask and ye shall receive ; that is all that is required;
no more turnings and variety in their road ; when (I
say) at so cheap a rate, a poor man may be provided
for, and a rich man may escape damnation, he that
refuses to apply himself to this remedy, qrdckly^ ear-
nestly^ zealously, and constantly, deserves the smart
of his poverty, and the care of it, and the scorn, if
he be poor ; and if he be rich, it is fit he should (be-
cause he desires it) die by the evils of his proper
danger. It was observed by Cassian ; orationibus
maxime insidicmtur daemones, the devil is more busy
to disturb our prayers, than to hinder any thing else.
For else it cannot be imagined, why we should be

264 OP LUKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. Serm. XlV,

brought to pray so seldom, and to be so listless to
them, and so trilling at them. No, the devil knows
upon ivhat hard terms he stands ivith the praying man ;
he also knows, that it is a mighty emana'ion of God's
inlinite goodness and a strange desire of saving man-
kind, that he hath to so easy a duty promised such
mighty blessings. For God knowing, that upon
hard terms we Avould not accept of heaven itself, and
yet hell was so intolerable a state, that God who
loved us would affix heaven to a state of prayer and
devotion; this, because the devil knows to be one of
the greatest arts of the divine mercy, he labours in-
finitely to supplant; and if he can but make men un*-
willing to pray, or to pray coldly^ or to pray seldom, he
secures his interest, and destroys the man's; and it is
infinitely strange, that he can and doth prevail so
much in this so unreasonable tenjptation. Gpposinsti
mibem ne transiret oratio, the mourning prophet com-
plained, there was a cloud passed between heaven
and the prayer ofJudah ;* a little thing God knows;
it was a wall, which might have been blown down
with a few hearty sighs, and a few penitential tears ;
or if the prayers had ascended in a full and numerous
body, themselves would have broken through that
little partition; but so the devil prevails often; oppo-
nit nubem, he claps a cloud between; some little ob-
jection ; a stranger is come ; or 7ny head aches ; or, the
church is too cold ; or, / hare letters to write ; or, / am
not disposed ; or, it is not yet time ; or, the time is past:
these, and such as these, aie the clouds the devil claps
between heaven and us; but these are such impotent
objections, that they were as soon confuted as pretend-
ed, by all men that are not fools, or professed enemies
of religion, but that they are clouds, which sonietimes
look hke lions and bears, castles and wails of lire, ar-

' Lam. iii. 44.

Serm. XIV. of lukewarmness and zeal. 265

mies and horses; and indeed are any thing that a man
Avill fancy ; and the smallest article of objection, ma-
naged and conducted by the devil's arts, and meet-
ing with a wretchless, careless, indevout spirit, is a
lion in the way, and a deep river; it is impassible,
and it is impre.o'nable. tivovt'xi tthvB'' o, n uv /^oukovtm vepihau, au-

KOt 83tv 'St/Ltmet ua-iS'iiiTi, ixnipoi rcf> KKia>mf/.cfi ■,* 3lS tllC SOpillSter SaiCl

in the Greek comedy, clouds become any thing as they are
represented ; wolves to Simon, harts to Cleonymus; for
the devil fits us with clouds, according as we can be
abused ; and if we love affairs of the world, he can
contrive its circumstances so, that they shall cross
our prayers ; and so it is in every instance ; and the
best way to cure this evil is prayer ; pray often.) and
pray zealously., and the sun of righteousness will scat-
ter these clouds, and warm our hearts with his holy
fires : but it is in this, as in all acquired habits ; the
habit makes the actions easy and pleasant; but this
habit cannot be gotten without frequent actions :
habits are the daughters oi action ; but then they nurse
their mother, and produce daughters after her image,
but far more beautiful and prosperous. For in fre-
quent prayer there is so much rest and pleasure, that
as soon as ever it is perceived, the contrary tempta-
tion appears unreasonable ; none are so unwilling to
pray, as they that pray seldom ; for they that do pray
often, and with zeal, and passion, and desire, feel no
trouble so great, as when they are forced to omit
their holy offices and hours of prayer. It concerns
the devil's interest to keep us from all the experience
of the rewards of a frequent and holy prayer; and
so long as you will not try and taste hoiv good and
gracious the Lord is to the praying man, so long you
cannot see the evil of your coldness and lukewarm
state ; but if you would but try, though it be but
for curiosity sake^ and inform yourselves in the

* Arist. Nt*eAa(.
TOL. 1. 35

266 ©K LUKEWARMNES8 AND ZEAL. Scrm. XIV.

vanity of things, and the truth of pretences, and
the certainty of theolos^lcal propositions, you should
find yourselves taken in a golden snaie, which will
tie you to nothing but felicity, and safety, and holiy
ness, diud. pleasure. But then the caution, which 1 in- '
tended to insert, is this; xhdii frequency in prayers, and
that part of zeal which relates to it, is to be upon no
account but of an holy spirits a wise heart and reason-
able persuasion ; for ii" it begin upon passion or fear,
in Imitation of others, or desires of reputation, honour ■
and fantastick principles, it will be unblessed and
weary, unprosperous, and without return of satisfac-
tion: therefore if it happen to begin upon a weak
principle, be very curious to change the motive, and
with all speed let it be turned into religion and the
love of holy things : then let it be as frequent as It
can prudently. It cannot be amiss.

When you are entered into a state of zealous
prayer, and a regular devotion, whatever interrup-
tion you can meet with, observe their causes, and
be sure to make them irregular, seldom, and con-
tingent, that your omissions may be seldom and
casual, as a bare accident, for which no provisions
can be made : for if ever it come, that you take any
thing habitually and constantly from your prayers,
or that you distiact from them very frequently, it
cannot be but you will become troubleson)e to }our-
self; your prayers will be uneasy, they will seem
hinderances to your more necessary affairs of passion
and interest, and the things of the woild: and it
will not stand stiil, till it comes to apostasy, and a
direct dispute and cortempt of holy things? For it *
was an oid rule, and of a sad experience, tepidiias, si
callum obduxerit, fet apostasia ; if your lukewarm-^
ness be habilual, and a state of life, if it* once be',
hardened by the usages of many days, it changes the
whole state of the man, it makes him an apostate

iSi^J^m. XIV. OF LUKEWARMNESS ANB ZEAL. 267

to devotion. Therefore be infinitely careful in this
particular, always remembering the saying of *!>/.
Chrysostome ; docendi^ praedicandi^ ojficia, et (dia ces-
-sant suo tempore^ precandi autem nimquam ; there are
seasons for teaching, and preaching, and other out-
ward olfices; but prayer is the duty of all times, and
of all persons, and in all contingencies : from other
things in many cases we may be excused, but from
prayer never. In this therefore Mm ^i-.Ko.a-^^At, it is
good to be zealous.

2. Concerning the second instance I named,
Tiz. to give alms above our estate, it is an excellent
act of zeal, and needs no other caution to make it
secure from illusion and danger, but that our egres-
sioiis of diarity do not prejudice justice. See that your
alms do not other men wrong; and let them do what
they can to thyself, they will never prejudice thee
by their abundance; but then be also careful, that
the pretences of justice do not cozen thyself of thy
charity, and the poor of thine alms, and thy soul
of the reward. He that is in debt is not excused
from giving alms, till his debts are paid ; but only
from giving away such portions which should and
would pay them, and such which he intended should
do it : there are lacernae divitiaru?n^ and crumbs from
the table, and the gleanings of the harvest, and the
sscatterings of the vintage, which in all estates are
the portions of the poor, which being collected by
the hand of Providence, and united wisely, may be-
come considerable to the poor, and are the neces-
sary duties of charity; but beyond this also, every
considerable relief to the poor is not a considerable
diminution to the estate; and yet if it be, it is not
always considerable in the accounts of justice; for
n Jthing ought to be pretended against the zeal of
alms, but the certain omissions, or the very probable
retarding the doing that, to which we are otherwise

268 OF LUKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. Scrm. XIV.

obliged. He tlrat is going to pay a debt, and in
the way meets an indigent person that needs it all,
may not give it to him unless he knows by other
means to pay the debt; but if he can do both, he
hath his libeity to lay out his money for a crown.
But then in the case of provision for children, our
restraint is not so easy, or discernible. 1. Because
we are not bound to provide for them in a certain
portion, but may do it by the analogies and measures
of prudence, in which there is a great latitude. 2.
Because our zeal of charity is a good portion for them,
and lays up a blessing for inheritance. 3. Because
the fairest portions of charity are usually short of
such sums, which can be considerable in the duty of
provision for our children. 4. If we for them could be
content to take any measure less than all, any thing
under every thing that we can, we should find the
portions of the poor made ready to our hands suffi-
ciently to minister to zeal, and yet not to entrench
upon this case of conscience. But the truth is, we
are so careless, so unskilled, so unstudied in religion,
that we are only glad to make an excuse, and to de-
feat our souls of the rew^ard of the noblest grace :
ive are contented, if we can but make a pretence ;
for we are highly pleased if our conscience be quiet,
and care not so much that our duty be performed, much
less that our eternal interest be advanced in bigger
portions. We care not, we strive not, we think not
of ofettino; the {greater rewards of heaven ; and he
whose desnes arc so indifferent for the greater, will
not take pains to secure the smallest portion ; and it
is observable, that iKaxi^rro^ «v tm /SatrMs/a, the least in the
kinjrdom of heaven,* is as much as ovSuc, as o-ood as
none ; if a man will be content with his hopes of the
lowest place there, and will not labour for something

* Blattb. V. 16.

Serm. XIV, op lukewarmness and zeal. 269

beyond it, he does not value it at all, and it is ten to
one but he will lose that for which he takes so little
pains, and is content with so easy a security. He
that does his alms, and resolves that in no case he
will suffer inconvenience for his brother, whose case
it may be is intolerable, should do well to remember
that God in some cases requires a greater charity;
and it may be we shall be called to die for the good
of our brother: and that although it always supposes
a zeal, and a holy fervour, jet sometimes it is also a
duty, and we lose our hves if we go to save them ;
and so we do Avith our estates, when we are such
£:ood husbands in our relio-ion, that we will serve all
our own conveniences before the great needs oi a
hungry and afflicted brother, God oftentimes takes
from us that which with so much curiosity we would
preserve, and then we lose our money, and our reward
too.

3. Hither is to be reduced the accepting and choos-
ing the counsels evangelical : the virgin or widow
estate in order to religion : selling all, and giving it
to the poor: making ourselves eunuchs for the kingdom
of heaven: offering ourselves to death voluntarily, in
exchange or redemption of the life of a most useful
person, as j^quila and Priscilla^ who ventured their lives
for St. Paid: the zeal of souls: St. Paw/V preaching
to the Corinthian church without wages : remitting
of rights and forgiving of debts, when the obliged
person could pay, but not without much trouble:
protection of calamitous persons with hazard of our
own interest and a certain trouble : concerning which,
and all other acts of zeal, we are to observe the fol-
lowing measures, by which our zeal will become safe
and holy ; and by them also we shall perceive the
excesses of zeal, and its inordinations ; which is the
next thing I am to consider.

270 OP LUKF.WARMNESS AND ZEAL. Scrm. XlV.

1. The first measure, by Avliich our zeal maj
comply with our duty, and its actions become lau-
dable, is charity to our neiiihbovr. For since God
receives ail that glorification of himself, whereby
we can serve and minister to his glory, reflected
upon the foundation of his own gooibiess^ and boun-
ty^ and mercij^ and all the alitaijahs that are or ever
shall be sung in heaven are praises and thanksgiv-
ings; and that God himself does not receive glorj
from the acts of his justice, but then when his crea-
tures will not rejoice in his goodness and mercy :
it follows that we imitate this origirial excellency,
and pursue God's own method ; that is, glorify him
in via misericordiae^ in the way oi" mercy and bounty^
charity and forgii^encsSy love and fair compliances.
There is no greater charity in the world than to
save a soul, nothing that pleases God better, no-
thing that can be in our hands greater or more
noble, nothing that can be a more lasting and de-
lightful honour, than that a perishing soul, snatch-
ed from the flames of an intolerable hell, and borne
to heaven upon the wings of piety and mercy by
the ministry of angels, and the graces of the Holy
Spirit, ghall to eternal ages bless God and bless
thee: Him^ for i\\G Author and hiniaher of salva-
tion ; and thee^ for the minister and charitable in-
strument. That bright star must needs look plea-
santly upon thy face for ever, which was by thy
hand placed there, and, had it not been for thy mi-
nistry, might have been a sooty coal in the regions
of sorrow. Now, in order to this, God hath given
us all some powers and ministries, by which we may
by our charity promote this religion, and the great
interest of souls : counsels m\d prayers^ preaching and
writings passionate desiresdiud fair examples^ S'^^^'a ^^~
fore others in the way of godliness, and bea/ing the
torch before them, that they may see the way and

Serm. XIV. of lukewarmness and zeal. 271

walk in it. This is a charity that is prepared more
or less for every one ; and bi/ the way we should do
well to consider what we have done towards it. For
as it will be a strange arrest at the day of judgment
to Diiies^ that he fed high, and suffered Lazarus to
starve, and every garment that lies by thee and per-
ishes while thy naked brother does so too for want
of it, siiail be a bill of indictment against thy unmer-
ciful soul ; so it will be in every instance : in what
thou couldst profit thy brother and didst not, thou
art accountable ; and then tell over the times in which
thou hast prayed for the conversion of thy sinning
brother ; and compare the times together, and ob-
serve, whether thou hast not tempted him or betray-
ed him to sin, or encouraged him in it, or didst not
hinder him, when thou mightest, more frequently than
thou hast humbly and passionately^ and charitably and
zealously- bowed thy head, and thy heart, and knees,
to God lO redeem that poor soul from hell, whither
thou seest him descending with as much indiffercncy
as a stone into the bottom of the well. In this thing
aoLKiv I'KovT^'it, it is a good thing to be zealous, and put
forth all your strength, for you can never go too far.
But then be careful, that this zeal of thy neighbour's
amendment be only expressed in ways of charity, not
ot cruelty, or importune justice. He that strikes the
prince for justice^ as 6o/o?no;iV expression is,/^ a com-
panion of murderers ; and he that out of zeal of reli-
gion shall go to convert nations to his opinion by de-
stroying Christians, whose faith is entire^ and summed
up by the Apostles ; this man breaks the ground with,
a sword, and sows tares, and waters the ground with
blood, and ministers to envy and cruelty, to errours
and mistake, and there comes up nothing but poppies
to please the eye and fancy, dispiites ajid hypocrisy^ nevf
summaries of religion estimated by measures of anger,
and accursed principles ; and so much of the relio-ion

272 OK LUKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. Serm. XIV.

as is necessary to salvation is laid aside, and that
broLif>;ht forth that serves an interest, not holiness ; that
fills the schools of a proud man, but not that which
will fill heaven. Any zeal is proper for religion, but
the zeal of the sword and the zeal of anj^er ; this is
^(Kgw i>,Acv^ (he bitterness of zeal ;* and it is a certain
temptation to every man against his duty ; for if
the sword turns preacher, and dictates propositions
by empire instead of arguments, and engraves them
in men's hearts with a poinard, that it shall be
death to believe what I innocently and ignorantly
am persuaded of, it must needs be unsafe to try the
spirits^ to try all things^ to make inquiry ; and yet
without this liberty no man can justify himself be-
fore God or man, nor confidently say that his religion
is best; since he cannot without a final danger make
himself able to give a ri2;ht sentence, and to follow
that which he finds to be the best; this may ruin souls
by making hypocrites, or careless and compliant
against conscience or without it; but it does not
save souls, though peradventure it should force them
to a good opinion : this Is inordination of zeal; for Christ
by reproving St. Peter drawing his sword, even in
the cause of Christ, for his sacred, and yet injured

person, M^^k-H ^m ;^gi!5-3-«i [xa.^u.iga. xstv tov S-Siv Joxe* tk iit.ity.HVt

(saith Theophrjlact^i) teaches us not to use the sword
thou«h in the cause of God, or for God himself;
because he will secure his own interest, only let him
be served as himself is pleased to command : and it is
like Moses'' passion, it throws the tables of the law
out of our hands, and breaks them in pieces out of
indl«>;nation to see them broken. This is zeal, that
is now in fashion, and hath almost spoiled religion ;
men like the zealots of tlic Jews, cry up their sect,
and in it their interest, ixkovti /uciBh- a.;, xa< ^a;^^a/g«o avu^u^ viai -,
they alTect disciples and fight against the oppo-

* Jaiucs iii. 14.

Serm. XIV. of lukewarmness and zeal. 278

nents ; and we shall find in scripture, that when
the Apostles began to preach the meekness of the
Christian institution, salvations and promises, cha-
rity and humility, there was a zeal set up against
them ; the Apostles were zealous for the gospel,
the Jews were zealous for the law : and see what
different effects these two zeals did produce ; the
zeal of the law came to this, iSo^ueow tw ttomv, and «<r(a|av
fAi)Q^i ^nYttrov, and ava»-i/govT5t/, and <.x>^o7roi>,a-ctviiQ -, they stirred
np the citt/i they made tumults, they persecuted this
way unto the deaths they got letters from the high
priest^ they kept Damascus iviih a garrison, they sent
parties of soldiers to silence and to imprison the
preachers, and thought they did God service, when
they put the Apostles to death, and they swore ?iei-
ther to eat nor to drink, till they had killed Paul. It
was an old trick of the Jewish zeal,

Non monstrare vias eadem nisi sacra colenti,
Quaesitum ad fontem solos deducere verpos.*

They would not show the way to a Samaritan, nor
give a cup of cold water but to a circumcised
brother; that was their zeal. But the zeal of the
Apostles was this, they preached publickly and
privately, they prayed for all men, they wept to God
for the hardness of men's hearts, the}' became
all things to all men, that they might gain some,
they travelled through deeps, and deserts, they en-
dured the heat of the Syrian star and the violence
of Euroclydon, winds and tempests, seas and prisons,
mockings and scourgings, fastings and poverty, la-
bour and watching : they endured every man and
wronged no man, they would do any good thing and

* Juv : XIV. 104.
And therefore to the circumcised alone
To point the road, or make the fountain known. Gifforb.

VOL. r. 36

274 Of LUKEWARMNESS AND ZEAL. Scrm. XIV.

siifer any evil, if they had but hopes to prevail upon
a soul; they persuaded men meekly, they entreated
them humbly, they convinced them powerfully, they
watched for their good, but meddled not with their
interest; and this is the Christian zeal, the zeal of
meekness, the zeal of charity, ihe zeal of patience,
«ir TouTo/c }MKov ^»\oviT^xf^ lu thesB it is good to be zealous,
for you can never o-o far enoujrh.

2. The next measure of zeal is prudence. For, as
charity is the matter of zeal, so is discretion the manr
ner. It must always be for good to our neighbour,
and there needs no rules for the conducting of that,
provided the end be consonant to the design; that
is, that charity be intended, and charity be done.
But there is a zeal also of religion or worshipping,
and this hath more need of measures and proper cau-
tions. For, religion can turn into a snare ; it may
be abused into superstition, it may become weariness
in the spirit, and tempt to tediousness, to hatred,
and despair: and many persons through their indis-
creet conduct, and furious marches, and great loads
taken upon tender shoulders and inexperienced,
have come to be perfect haters of their joy, and
despisers of all their hopes; being like dark Ian-
thorns in which a candle burns bright, but the body
is encompassed with a crust and a dark cloud of
iron ; and these men keep the fires and light of holy
propositions within them, but the darkness of hell,
the hardness of a vexed heart, hath shaded all the
light, and makes it neither apt to warm nor to en-
lighten others, but it turns to fire within, a fever and
a distemper dwells there, and religion is become
their torment.

1. Therefore oitr zeal must never carry us beyond
that which is profitable. There are many institutions,
customs, and usages introduced into religion upon
very fair motives, and apted to great necessities ; out
to imitate those things, when they are disrobed of

Serm. XIV. of lukewarmness and zeal. 275

their proper ends, is an importune zeal, and signifies
nothing but a forward mind, and an easy heart, and
an imprudent head; unless these actions can be
invested with other ends and useful purposes. The
primitive church were strangely inspired with a zeal
of virginity, in order to the necessities of preaching
and travelling, and easing the troubles and temp-
tations of persecution ; but when the necessity went
on, and drove the holy men into deserts, that made
Colleges of Religious, and their manner of life was
such, so united, so poor, so dressed, that they must
love more 7ion secularly after the manner of men
divorced from the usual intercourses of the world :
still their desire of single life increased, because the
old necessity lasted, and a new one did supervene.
Afterwards, the case was altered, and then the sin-
gle life was not to be chosen for itself, nor yet in
imitation of the first precedents ; for it could not be
taken out from their circumstances and be used alone.
He therefore that thinks he is a more holy person
for being a virgin or a widower, or that he is bound
to be so, because they were so ; or that he cannot
be a religious person because he is not so, hath zeal
indeed, but not according to knowledge. But now
if the single state can be taken out and put to new
appendages, and fitted to the end of another grace
or essential duty of religion, it will well become
a christian zeal to choose it so long, as it can serve
the end with advantage and security. Thus also a
zealous person is to choose his fastings ; while they
are necessary to him, and are acts of proper morti-
fication, while he is tempted, or while he is under
discipline, while he repents, or while he obeys ; but
some persons fast in zeal, but for nothing else ; fast
when they have no need, when there is need they
should not ; but call it religion to be miserable or
sick ; here their zeal is folly, for it is neither an act
of religion nor of prudence, to fast when fasting

276 OF LUKEWARMNBSB AND ZEAL. SfVm. XIV.

probably serves no end of the spirit ; and therefore
in tile fasting-days of the church, although it is war-
rant enough to us to fast, if we had no end to serve
in it but the mere obedience, yet it is necessary that
the siiperionrs should not think the law obeyed, un-
less the end of the first institution be observed: a
fasting day is a day of humiliation, and prayer; and
fasting being nothing itself, but wholly the hand-
maid of a further grace, ought not to be divested
of its holiness and sanctitication, and left like the
walls of a ruinous church, where there is no duty
performed to God, but there remains something of
that, which used to minister to religion. The want
of this consideration hath caused so much scandal
and dispute, so many snares and schisms concerning
ecclesiastical fasts. For when it was undressed and
stripped of all the ornaments and useful appendages,
when from a solemn day it grew to be common; from
thence to be less devout by being less seldom and
less useful ; and then it passed from a day of religion
to be a day of order, and from fasting till night, to
fasting till evening-song, and evening-song to be sung
about twelve o'clock ; and from fasting it was changed
to a choice of food, from eating nothing to eating
fish, and that the letter began to be stood upon, and
no usefulness remained but what every of his own
piety should put into it, but nothing was enjoined by
the law, nothing of that exacted by the superiours,
then the law fell into disgrace, and the design became
suspected, and men were first ensnared and then
scandalized, and then began to complain without
remedy, and at last took remedy themselves without
authority; the whole aifuir fell into a disorder and
mischief; and zeal was busy on both sides, and on
both sides was mistaken, because they fell not upon
the proper remedy, which was, to reduce the law to the
usefulness and advantages of its first intention. But
this J intended not to have spoken.

Serm. XIV. of lukbhtarmness and zeal. 277

2. Our zeal must never carry us beyond that which is
safe. Some there are, who in their first attempts
and entries upon religion, while the passion that
brought them in, remains, undertake things as great
as their highest thoughts ; no repentance is sharp
enough, no charities expensive enough, no fastings
afflictive enough, then tofis quinqnatrious orant ; and
finding; some deliciousness at the first contest, and in
that activity of then* passion, they make vows to bind
themselves for ever to this state of delicacies. The
onset is fair : but the event is this. The age of a
passion is not long, and the flatulent spirit being
breathed out, the man begins to abate of his first
heats, and is ashamed ; but then he considers that all
that was not necessary, and therefore he will abate
something more, and yrom something to something., at
last it will come to just nothing ; and the proper eflect
of this is indignation and hatred of holy things., an im-
pudent spirit., carelessness or despair. Zeal sometimes
carries a man into temptation : and he that never
thinks he loves God dutifully or acceptably, because
he is not imprisoned for him or undone, or designed
to martyrdom, may desire a trial that will undo him.
It is like fighting of a duel to show our valour. Stay
till the king commands you to fight and die, and then
let zeal do its noblest oflices. This irregularity and
mistake was too frequent in the primitive church,
when men and women would strive for death and be
ambitious to feel the hangman's sword ; some mis-
carried in the attempt, and became sad examples of
the unequal yoking a frail spirit with a zealous driver.

3. Let zeal never transport us to attempt any thing
but what is possible. M. Teresa made a vow, that
she would do always that which was absolutely the
best. But neither could her understanding always
tell her which was so, nor ^er ?6"27/ always have the
same fervours : and it must often breed scruples, and

STB Ol. LUKK^V ARMNKSS ANU ZEAL. iSeriH. XIV.

sometimes tcdlousness, and wishes that the vow were
unmade. He that vows never to have an ill thought,
never to commit an errour, hath taken a course, that
his little inhrmities shall become crimes, and certainly
be imputed by changing his unavoidable infirmity into
vow-breach. Zeal is a violence to a man's spirit;
and unless the spiiit be secured by the proper nature
of the duty, and the circumstances of the action, and
the possibilities of the man, it is like a great fortune
in the meanest person, it bears him beyond his limit,
and breaks him into dangers and passions, transpor-
tations and all the furies of disorder that can happen
to an abused person.

4. Zeal is not safe unless it be in re probahili too,
it must be in a likely matter. For we that find so
many excuses to untie all our just obligations, and
distinguish our duty into so much fineness, that it
becomes like leaf-gold, apt to be gone at every breath;
\i cannot be prudent that we zealously undertake
what is not probable to be effected : if we do, the
event can be nothing but portions of the former evil,
scruple and snares^ shameful retreats and new fantastick
principles. In all our undertakings we must consider
what is our state of life, what our natural inclinations,
what is our society, and what are our dependencies ;
by what necessities we are borne down, by what
hopes we are biassed ; and by these let us measure
our heats and their proper business. A zealous man
runs up a sandy hill ; the violence of motion is his
greatest hinderance, and a passion in religion de-
strovs as much of our evenness of spirit, as it sets
forward any outward work ; and therefore although
it be a good circumstance and degree of a spiritual
dutVi so long as it is within, and relative to God and
ourselves, so long it is a holy flame ; but if it be in an
outward duty, or relative to our neighbours, or in an
instance not necessary, it sometimes spoils the action,
and always endangers it. But 1 must remember, w*;

Serm. XIV. op lukewarmness and zeal. '27^

live in an age, in which men have more need of new
fires to be kindled within them, and round about
them, than of any thing to allay their forwardness :
there is little or no zeal now but the zeal of envy,
and killing as many as they can, and damning more
than they can ; '^ug»ja-i; and imttvoc 7nj^a,a-ia>^, smoke and lurking
fires do corrode and secretly consume ; therefore this
discourse is less necessary. A physician would have
but small employment near the Riphaean mountains^ if
he could cure nothing but calentures ; catarrhs and
dead palsies, colds and consumptions, are their evils ;
and so is lukewarmness and deadness of spirit the
proper maladies of our age : for though some are
hot, when they are mistaken, yet men are cold in a
righteous cause ; and the nature of this evil is to be
insensible ; and the men are farther from a cure,
because they neither feel their evil, nor perceive
their danger. But of this I have already given ac-
count : and to it I shall only add what an old spir-
itual person told a novice in religion, asking him the
cause why he so frequently suffered tediousness in his
religious offices ; nondum vidisii requiem quam spera-
mns, nee tormenta quae timemus ; young man, thou hast
not seen the glories which are laid up for the zealous
and devout, nor yei beheld the flames which are pre-
pared for the lukewarm, and the haters of strict
devotion. But the Jews tell, that Jldam having seen
the beauties, and tasted the delicacies of paradise^
repented and mourned upon the Indian mountains for
three hundred years together : and we who have a
great share in the cause of his sorrows, can by no-
thing be invited to a persevering, a great, a passion-
ate religion, more than by remembering what he lost,
and what is laid up for them whose hearts are burn-
ing lamps, and are all on fire with divine love, whose
flames are fanned with the wings of the holy Dove,
and whose spirits shine and burn with that fire, which
the holy Jesus came to enkindle upon the earth.

SERMON XV.

THE HOUSE OF FEASTING;

THE EPICURE'S MEASURES.

PART I.

1 Cor. XV. 32. last part.
Let us eat and drink ; for to-morrow we die.

J HIS is the epicure's proverb, begun upon a weak
mistake, started by chance from the discourses of
drink, and thought witty by the undiscerning com-
pany, and prevailed infinitely, because it struck
their fancy luckily, and maintained the merry-meet-
ing; but, as it happens commonly to such discourses,
so this also, wh.en it comes to be examined by the
consultations of the morning, and the sober hours of
the day, it seems the most witless, and the most un-
reasonable in the world. When Seneca describes
the spare diet of Ejjicurus and JMelrodorvs, he uses
this expression ; Uberaliora sunt aliment a carceris :
sepositos ad capitale supplicittm, non turn angiistCy
qui occisurus est, pascit. The prison keeps a better
table, and he that is to kill the criminal to-morrow
morning, gives him a better supper over night.

Serm. XV. the house op feasting. 281

Bj this he intended to represent his meal to be very
short: for as dying persons have but httle stomach
to feast high; so they that mean to cut their throat
will think it a vain expense to please it with dehca-
cies, which after the first alteration must be poured
upon the ground, and looked upon as the worst part
of the accursed thing. And there is also the same
proportion of unreasonableness, that because men
shall die to-morrow, and by the sentence and unal-
terable decree of God, they are now descending
to their g-raves, that therefore thev should first de-
stroy their reason, and then force dull time to run
faster, that they may die sottish as beasts, and speedi-
ly as a fly : but they thought there was no life after
this ; or if there were, it was without pleasure, and
every soul thrust into a hole, and a dorture of a span's
length allowed for his rest, and for his walk ; and in
the shades below no numbering of healths by the
numeral letters of Philenium's name, no fat mullets,
no oysters of Lucrimis, no Lesbian or Ckian wines.

IwTo a-u-ipoiii avflgaiTs y.±Ba)V iiiip^^Jn <riM-rcv. 1 lierelOre nOW Cn-

joy the delicacies of nature, and feel the descending
wines distilled through the limbeck of thy tongue
and larynx, and suck die deficious juice of fishes,
the marrow of the laborious ox, and the tender lard
of ^pulian swine, and the condited bellies of the
Scarus ; but lose no time, for the sun drives hard,
and the shadow i^ long, and the days of mourning
are at hand, but the number of the days of dark-
ness and the grave cannot be told.

Thus they thought they discoursed wisely, and
their wisdom was turned into folly; for all their
arts of Providence, and witty securities of pleasure,
were nothing but unmanly prologues to death, fear,
and folly, sensuality and beastly pleasures. But they
are to be excused rather than we. They placed
themselves in the order of beasts and birds, and es-

voL. /. 37

'2V,'2 THE HOUSE OF FEASTING. Serm. XF^

teemed their bodies nothing but receptacles of flesh
and wine, larders and pantries; and their soul liie
fine instrument of pleasure and brisk reception, of
relishes and gusts, reflections and duplications of de-
light ; and therefore they treated themselves accord-
ingly. But then why we should do the same things,
who are led by other principles, and a more severe
institution, and better notices of immortality, who un-
derstand what shall happen to a soul hereafter, and
know that this time is but a passage to eternity^ this
body but a servant to the soiiL this soul a minister to
the spirit^ and the whole man in order to God and to
felicity ; this, I say., is more unreasonable, than to eat
aconite to preserve our health, and to enter into tlie
flood that we may die a dry death ; this is a perfect
contradiction to the state of good things, whither we
are designed, and to all the principles of a wise phi-
losophy, whereby we are instiucted that we maj
become wise unto salvation. That 1 may therefore do
some assistances towards the curing the miseries of
mankind, and reprove the follies and improper mo-
tions towards felicity, 1 shall endeavour to represent
to you,

1. That plenty and the pleasures of the world are
no proper mstruments of felicity.

2. That intemperance is a certain enemy to it ;
making life unpleasant, and death troublesome and
intolerable.

3. 1 shall add the rules and measures of tempe-
rance in eating and drinking, that nature and grace
may join to the constitution of man's felicity.

1. Plenty and the pleasures of the world are no
proper instruments of felicity. It is necessary that a
man have some violence done to himself before he
can receive them : for nature's bounds are non esu-
rire^nou sitire., 7ion a/iffy^, to be quit liom hunger, and
thirst, and cold ; that is, to have nothing upon u?

^erm. XV. the house of feasting. 283

that puts us to pain ; against which she hath made
provisions bj the lieece of the sheep, and the skins
of the beasts, by the waters of the fountain, and the
herds of the field, and of these no good man is desti-
tute, for that share that he can need to fill those
appetites and necessities he cannot otherwise avoid :
n-aiv ot^Kounm ouSuc mmi s^-t/. For it is Unimaginable that na-
ture should be a mother, natural and indulgent to
the beasts of the forest, and the spawn of fishes, to
every plant ?iX\A fumrus., to cats and owls, to moles and
bats, making her storehouses always to stand open
to them ; and that, for the Lord of all these, even to
the noblest of her productions, she should have made
no provisions, and only produced in us appetites
sharp as the stomach of wolves, troublesome as the
tyger's hunger, and then run away, leaving art and
chance., violence and study., to feed us and to clothe us.
This is so far from truth, that we are certainly more
provided for by nature than all the world besides ;
for every thing can minister to us ; and we can pass
into none of nature's cabinets, but we can find our
table spread : so that what David said to God, whither
shall I go from thy presence ? if I go to heaven., thou
art there ; if I descend to the deep., thou art there also ;
if I take the wings of the morning, and flee into the ut-
termost parts of the icilderness., even there thou wilt find
me out., and thy right hand shall uphold me., we may
say it concerning our table., and our wardrobe ; if we
go Into the fields, we find them tilled by the mercies
of heaven, and watered with showers from God to
feed us and to clothe us ; if we go down into the
deep, there God hath multiplied our stores, and
filled a maf^azine which no hunsrer can exhaust ;
the air drops down delicacies, and the wilderness can
sustain us, and all that is in nature, that which
feeds lions, and that which the ox eats, that which
the fishes live upon, and that which is the provision

284 THE HOUSE OF FEASTING. Semi. XV.

for tlie bji'ds, all that can keep us alive; and if we
consider, that of the beasts and birds, for whom
nature hath provided but one dish, it may be flesh
or fish, or herbs or flies, and these also we secure
with guards from them, and drive away birds and
beasts from that provision which nature made for
them, yet seldom can we find that any of these pe-
rish AVith hunger: mucli rather shall we find that
we are secured by the securities proper for the moie
noble creatures, by that providence that disposes ail
things, by that mercy that gives us all things,
which to other creatures ai-e ministered singly ; by
that labour, that can procure what we need; by
that wisdom, that can consider concerning future
necessities ; by that power, that can force it from
inferiour creatures ; and by that temperance, which
can fit our meat to our necessities. For if we go
beyond what is needful, as we find sometimes more
than was promised, and very often more than we
need, so we disorder the certainty of our felicity, by
puttino- that to hazard which nature hath secured.
For it is not certain, that if we desire to have the
■wealth of Susa, or garments stained with the blood
of the Tyrian fish, that if we desire to feed like Phi-
loxcnns, or to have tables loaden like the boards of
Vitcl'ius., tliat we shall never want. It is not nature
that desires these things, but Insi and violence ; and
by a disease we entered into the passion and the ne-
cessity, and in that state of trouble it is likely we
may dwell for ever, unless we reduce our appetites
to nature's measures.

Si ventii bene, si later) est, pedibusque tuis, uil
DiviUae poterunt regales addere inajus.*

* Horace.

Areyoii with food, and warmth, and raiment blest?

Not royal treasures are of more possest. Francis.

Serm. XT^. the house op feasting. 285

And therefore It is, that plenty and pleasures are
not the proper Instruments of felicity. Because fe-
licity is not a jewel that can be locked in one man's
cabinet. God intended that all men should be
made happy; and he, that gave to all men the same
natural desires, and to all men provision of satisfac-
tions by the same meats and drinks, intended that
it should not go beyond that measure of good things,
vsdiich corresponds to those desires wiiich all men
naturally have.

He that cannot be satisfied with common provi-
sion, hath a bigger need than he that can ; it is
harder, and more contingent, and more difficult, and
more troublesome, for him to be satisfied; /i^ui^a, rm

xnTct TO a-ce/ua.'Ticiv i'lSet, uSati xati ctgrcf) ^^m/iAivo^y Trgos-rnfJuce tai; at

mKulikiinc Novell;, said Epicurus^ 1 feed sweetly upon
bread and water, those sweet and easy provisions of
the body, and I defy the pleasures of costly
provisions ; and the man was so confident that
he had the advantage over w^ealthy tables, that
he thought himself happy as the immortal gods,

tTotfJCtt); ipyitv Tea A// vrsp iuS'oil/uovioi.g J(*^a)V/^scr'9'*<) /nsL^av «/^*v, x.ut t/Jaig :

for these provisions are easy, they are to be gotten
without amazing cares ; no man needs to flatter, if
he can live as nature did intend : magna pars liber"
tatis est bene moratus venter:* he need not swell
his accounts, and intricate his spirit with arts of
subtilty and contrivance; he can be free from fears;
and the chances of the world cannot concern him.
And this is true, not only in those severe and aii-
choretical and philosojthicul persons, who lived mean-
ly as a sheep, and without variety as the Baptist^
but in the same proportion it is also true in every

* Seneca.
A well governed appetite is a great advance to fieedom.

286 THE HousR OF B'KASTiNG. Serm. XV.

man that can be contented with that which is ho-
nestly sufficient. Maximus Tyrius considers con-
cerning tlie fehcity of Diogenes^ a poor Synopean,
having not so much nobility as to be born in the
better parts of Greece ; but he saw that he was com-
pelled by no tyrant to speak or do ignobly ; he had
no fields to till, and therefore took no care to buy
cattle, and to hire servants ; he was not distracted
when a rent-day came, and feared not when the wise
Greeks played the fool and fought who should be
lord of that held that lay between Thebes and Jlthens ;
he laughed to see men scramble for dirty silver, and
spend ten thousand attick talents for the getting the
revenues of two hundred philippicks ; he went with
his staff and bag into the camp of the Phoc€?ises, and
the soldiers reverenced his person and despised his
poverty, and it was truce with him whosoever had
wars; and the diadem of kings,, and the purple of
emperours , the mitre of high pne*'^^, and the divining-
staff of soothsayers^! were things of envy and ambi-
tion, the purchase of danger, and the rew ards of a
miglity passion ; and men entered into thetn by trou-
ble and extreme difficulty, and dwelt under them as a
man under a falling root, or as Damocles under the
tyrant's sword,

Nunc lateri incnrabens — mox dointle siipiniis,
Nunc cubat in iacioin, nunc recto pcclore surgens,*

Sleeping Hke a condemned man ; and let there be
what pleasure men can dream of in such broken

* Takes liis sad coucli, more unobscrv'd to weep,
Nor tastes the gifts of all-composing sleep ;
Restless he roll'd about his weary bed,
And all his soul on his Patroclus fed,
And now supine, now prone the Hero lay,
No»v shifts his side, impatient for the day.

Pope.

Serm. XV. the house of pbastixs. 2ff7

slumbers, yet the fear of waking from this illusion,
and parting- from this fantastick pleasure, is a pain
and torment which the imaginary felicity cannot pay
for. Cui cum paupertate bene convenit, dives est: nou
qui parum habei^ sed qui plus cupit, pauper est :* AH
our trouble is from within us ; and if a dish of lettuce
and a clear fountain can cool all my heats, so that I
shall have neither thirst nor pride., lust nor revenge^
envy nor ambition., I am lodged in the bosom of feli-
city ; and indeed no men sleep so soundly, as they
that lay their head upon nature's lap. For a single
dish and a clean chalice, lifted from the springs, can
cure my hunger and thirst: but the meat of Jlhasue-
rus'' feast cannot satisfy my ambition and my pride.
JVulla re eu^ere., Dei proprium ; qvam paiwissimis au-
tem., Deo proximum^'f said Socrates. He therefore
that hath the fewest desires and the most quiet pas-
sions, whose wants are soon provided for, and whose
possessions cannot be disturbed with violent fears, he
that dwells next door to satisfaction, and can carry
his needs and lay them down where he pleases, this
man is the happy man, and this is not to be done in
great designs, and swelling fortunes. Dives jam /actus
desiit gaudere lente., Carius edit et bibif, et laetatur dives^
quam pauper., qui in quolibet, in parato, inempto gaudet,
et facile epulari potest, dives nunquam.^ For as it is
in plants which nature thrusts forth from her navel,
she makes regular provisions, and dresses them with
strength and ornament, with easiness and full stature ;
but if you thrust a jessamine there where she would

* Whosoever is contented witli poverty, is rich. Not he who hath
little, but he who desires iiiore than he hath, is the poor man.

f To want nothing is the attribute of God ; he therefore, whose waats-
are fewest, is most like to God.

I Tlie rich man cannot easily be pleased ; while the poor Carian, wh.o
eats and drinks and is satisiied with whatever comes to hand, who is
delighted with cheap and common pleasures, has always a feast prepared ,
and is in reality the richer of the two.

288 THE HOUSE OF FEASTING. Hemi. XV.

have a daisy grow, or bring the tall hr from dwelhng
in his own country, and tiansport the orange or the
ahnond-tree near the frincres of the north-star, nature
is displeased, and becomes unnatural, and starves her
sucklings, and renders you a return less than your
charge and expectation: so it is in all our appetites;
when they are natural and proper, nature feeds them
and makes them healthful and lusty, as the coarse
issue of the Scythian clown ; she feeds them and makes
them easy without cares and costly passions: but if
you thrust an appetite into her, which she intended
not, she gives you sickly and uneasy banquets, you
must struggle with her for every drop of milk she
gives beyond her own needs; you may get gold from
her entrails, and at a great charge provide ornaments
for your queens and princely women : but your lives
are spent in the purchase; and when you have got
them, you must have more: for these cannot con-
tent you, nor nourish tlie spirit. Jid svper vacua
sudatur ; a man must labour infinitely to get more
thaii he needs ; but to drive away thirst and hunger,
a man needs not sit in the fields of the oppressed poor,
nor lead armies, nor break his sleep, et contumeliosam
humunitatem pati, and to suifer shame and danger, and
envy, and aiiVont, and all the retinue of infelicity.

Qiiis lion Epiciinim

Suspicit, exigui laeUini plantaribus Jiorti ?*

If men did but know what felicity dwells in the
cottage of a virtuous poor man, how sound he sleeps,
how quiet his breast, how composed his mind, how
free from care, how easy his provision, how healthful
his morning, how sober his night, how moist his

*Juv. Sat. xiii. 122.
Wlio read not Epicurus, nor admire
The tranquil precepts ol" the frugal sire ? GiFFORn.

Strm. XV. THE HOUSE OP FEASTING. 289

mouth, how joyful his heart, they would never admire
the noises, and the diseases, the throng of passions,
and the violence of unnatural appetites, that iill the
houses of the luxurious and the heart of the ambitious.

Nainneque divitibus contingunt gaudia soHs :*

These which you call pleasures are but the imagery
and fantastick appearances, and such appearances
even poor men may have. It is like felicity that the
king of Persia should come to Babylon in the winter,
and to Susa in the summer ; and be attended with all
the servants of one hundred and twenty seven provin-
ces, and with all the princes of Asia. It is like this, that
Dioo-enes went to Corinth in the time of vinta2:e, and to
Jithens when winter came; and instead of courts, visit-
ed the temples and the schools, and was pleased in the
society of scholars and learned men, and conversed
with the students of all Jisia and Europe. If a man
loves privacy, the poor fortune can have that when
princes cannot; if he loves noises, he can go to markets
and to courts^ and may glut himself with strange faces
and strange voices, and stranger manners, and the wild
designs of all the world : and when that day comes in
which we shall die, nothing of the eating and drinking
remains, nothing of the pomp and luxury, but the sor-
row to part with it, and shame to have dwelt there
where wisdom and virtue seldom come, unless it be to
call men to sober counsels, to a plain and a severe, and
more natural way of living ; and when Lucian derides
the dead princes and generals, and says, that in hell
they go up and down selling salt meats and crying
muscles, or begging; and he brings in Philip o^ Mace-
don, tv ymti^icf) rivi /uticrd-ou ctKoufAimv tu. o-aQ^^ rm CTraSii/ucATav-, mCndlU^

of shoes in a little stall ; he intended to represent,

* Hor. i. Ep. xvii. 19.
For pleasure's not confined to wealth alone,
Nor ill he lives, who lives and dies unknown. Francis.
VOL. T. 38

290 THE HOUSE OP FEASTING. Sirm. XV'

that in the shades below, and in the state of the
grave, the princes and voli/ptuous have a being ditfe-
rent from their present plenty ; but that their condi-
tion is made contemptible and miserable, by its dis-
proportion to their lost and perishing voluptuousness.
The result is this, that Tiresias told the ghost of
J\Icnippus, inquiring what state of life was nearest to

tellClty, 0 TU'V iS'ianu'v a^ic-To; /iio; nnt era pganes-Tfgoc ; tllC private

life, that which is freest from tumult and vanity, noise
and luxury, business and ambition, nearest to nature,
and a just entertainment to our necessities ; that life is

nearest to lellClty. Toiavra. x>^gov *iy>ts-aju.ivO; T6t/To (Aovcv i^oLTrttvroc
^npA<nt, oTToi; TO 'Trctpov w •&s//£vciC) 9ra^riS^ifxti; yiXuv Tot ttoKXu, k-xi Tnpi /ui:S'iv lovrcu-

SaxM;; therefore despise the swellings and the diseases
of a disordered life, and a proud vanity ; be troubled for
no outward thing beyond its merit, enjoy the present
temperately, and you cannot choose but be pleased
to see, that you have so little share in the follies and
miseries of the intemperate world.

2. hitempcrance in eating and drinking is the most
contrary course to the epicure''s design in the world ;
and the voluptiwus man hath the least of pleasure ;
and upon this proposition, the consideration is more
material and more immediately reducible to practice;
because in eating and drinking, men please them-
selves so much, and have the necessities of nature
to usher in the inordination of gluttony and drunk-
enness, and our need leads in vice by the hand, that
we know not how to distinguish our friend from our
enemy; and St. jjug. is sad upon this point; thouy
O Lord! hast taught me that I should take my meat
as I take my physick ; but iihile I pass from the trou-
ble of hunger to the quietness of satisfaction^ in the very
passage I am ensnared by the cords of my own concu-
piscence. J\'eccssity bids me pass., but I have no way to
pass from hunger to fulness^ but over the bridge of
pleasure; and although health and life be the cause of

Serm. XV. the house of feasting. 201

mating and drinking^ yet pleasure^ a dangerous pleasure,
thnuts herself into attendance^ and sometimes endea-
vours to be the principal, and I do that for pleasure'' s
sake which I ivoidd only do for health; and yet they
have distinct measures, whereby they can be separated,
and that which is enough for health, is too little for
deliirht, and that which is for my delight destroys my
health, and still it is uncertain for what end I do in-
deed desire ; and the worst of the evil is this, that the
soul is glad because it is uncertain, and that an excuse
is ready, that binder the pretence of health, obumbret
negotium voluptatis, the design of pleasure may be ad
vanced and protected. How far the ends of natural
pleasure may lawfully be enjoyed, I shall afterwards
consider: in the mean time, if we remember that the
epicure's design is pleasure principally, we may the
better reprove his folly by considering, that intempe-
rance is a plain destruction to all that, which can
give real and true pleasure.

1. It is an enemy to health, without which it is
impossible to feel any thing of corporal pleasure.
2. A constant full table hath in it less pleasure
than the temperate provisions of the hermit, or the
labourer, or the philosophical table of scholars, and
the just pleasures of the virtuous. 3. Intemperance
is an impure fountain of vice, and a direct nurse of
uncleanness. 4. It is a destruction of wisdom. 5, It
is a dishonour and disreputation to the person and
the nature of the man.

It is an enemy to health; which is, as one calls it,
ansa voluptatum et condimentum vitae; it is that han-
dle by which we can apprehend and perceive plea-
sures, and that sauce that only makes life delicate ;
for what content can a full table administer to a man
in a fever ? and he that hath a sickly stomach admires
at his happiness, that can feast with cheese and gar-
lick, unctions breuuages and the low-tasted sjnnage.

292 THE MOUSE OP FEASTING. Serm. XV.

Health is the opportunity of wisdom, the fairest
scene of rehgion, the advantages of the glorifications
of God, the charitable ministeries to men ; it is a
state of joy and thanksgiving, and in every of its pe-
riod feels a pleasure from the blessed emanations of
a merciful providence. The world does not minister,
does not feel a greater pleasure, than to be newly
delivered from the racks or the gratings of the stone,
and the torments and convulsions of a sharp colick :
and no organs, no harp, no lute can sound out the
praises of the almighty Father so spritefully, as the
man that rises from his bed of sorrows, and considers
what an excellent difference he feels from the groans
and intolerable accents of yesterday. Health car-
ries us to church, and makes us rejoice in the com-
munion of saints; and an intemperate table makes us
to lose all this. For this is one of those sins, which
St. Paul affirms to be -argoJiiX?* ^^-.ayova-au s« K^ta-tv, manifest,
leading before unto judgment. It bears part of its

fmnishment in this life, and hath this appendage,
ike the sin against the Holy Ghosi, that it is not
remitted in this world, nor in the world to come ;
that is, if it be not repented of, it is punished here
and hereafter, which the scripture does not affirm
concerning: all sins, and all cases.

But in this the sinner gives sentence with his
mouth, and brings it to execution with his hands ;

Poena tairicn pracsens, cuin tii deponis amictum
Turgidiis, et ciuduai pavont m in balnea portas.*

The old gluttons among the Romans^ HeliogabuhSi
TigelliuSi Crispus^ Moiitanus^ notaeque per oppida buc-

* Jwv. I. 142.
But mark him soon by «ignal wratli pmsued.
When to the bath he bears the peacock crude,
That frets and swells witiiii* :

Serm. XV. the house of feasting. 293

cac, famous epicures, mingled their meats with vo-
mitings ; so did Vitellius^ and entered into their
baths to digest their pheasants, that they might
speedily return to the mullet and the eels of Syene^
and then they went home and drew their bjeath
short till the morning, and it may be not at all be-
fore night,

Hinc subitae mortes, atque intestata senectus.*

Their age is surprised at a feast, and gives them not
time to make their will, but either they are choked
with a large morsel, and there is no room for the
breath of the lungs, and the motions of the heart ;
or a fever burns their eyes out, or a quinzie punishes
that intemperate throat that had no religion, but
the eating of the fat sacrifices, the portions of the
poor and of the priest ; or else they are condemned
to a lethargy if their constitutions be dull ; and, if
active, it may be they are wild with watching.

Plurimus hinc aeger moritur vigilando : sed ilhira
Languorena peperit cibiis impeifectus, et haerens
Ardenti stomacho f

So that the epicures's genial proverb may be a little
altered, and say, let us eat and drink^ for by this
means to-morrow we shall die : but that is not all,
for these men live a healthless life; that is, are

* Juv. I. 144.

Thence every ill

Spasm, sudden death, and age without a will. Gifford.

tJuv. III. 232.
Sick with the fumes of undigested food
Which while it clogs the stomach, fires the blood.
Here languid wretches painful vigils keep,
Curse the slow hours, and die for want of sleep. Gifford •

294 THE HOUSE OP FEASTING. Scrm. XV.

long, are every day dying, and at last die with tor-
ment. Menander was too short in his expression,
(Msvcf ii/Toc pa^vtra/ «y6:tv:tToc ; tljat it is indeed death, but
glultony is a pleasant death.

Kau /uoxt; hax-ufret, kai to 7niu/u' «;^5VTa tthv olw.

For this is the glutton's pleasure, to breathe short
and difficultly, scarce to be able to speak, and when
he does, he cries out, I die and rot with pleasure.
But the folly is as much to be derided as the men
to be pitied, that we daily see men afraid of death
with a most intolerable apprehension, and yet in-
crease the evil of it, the pain, and the trouble, and
the suddenness of its coming, and the appendage of
an insufferable eternity.

Rem struere exoptant caeso bove Mercuriumque
Arcessunt libra f

They pray for herds of cattle, and spend the breed-
ers upon feasts and sacrifices. For why do men go
to temples and churches, and make vows to God
and daily prayers, that God would give them a
healthful body, and take away their gout, and their
palsies, their fevers and apoplexies, the pains of the
head, and the gripings of the belly, and arise from

* Pers. Sat. II.
Bursting with bile, scarce left with power to speak,
The breath just struggling past the bloated cheek,
Gorging and stuffing, hear the Glutton cry,
I rot in pleasure, and in pleasure die. A,

t Pers. Sat. II. 41.
You sigh for wealth, the frequent ox is slain.
And bribes areoSered to the God of gain. Drummond.

Serm. XV. the house op feasting. 29;>

their prayers, and pour In loads of flesh and seas oi
wine, lest there should not be matter enough for a
lustj disease ?

Poscis opera nervis, corpusqiie fidele scnectae.
Esto age ; sed grandes pa'' inae, tiicetaque crassa
Anuuere his superos vetaere, Jovemque luorantur.*

But this is enough that the rich glutton shall have
his dead body condited and embalmed ; he may be
allowed to stink and sutfer corruption while he is
alive ; these men are for the present living sinners
and tvalkin<r rottenness., and hereafter will be dying
penitents and perfumed carcasses., and their whole feli-
city is lost in tlie confusions of their unnatural dis-
order. When Cyrus had espied Astyages and his
fellows coming drunk from a banquet loaden with
variety of follies and filthiness, their legs failing them,
their eyes red and staring, cozened with a moist cloud,
and abused by a doubled object, their tongues full of
spunges, and their heads no wiser, he thought they
vs^ere poisoned^ and he had reason ; for what malig-
nant quality can be more venomous and hurtful to a
man than the effect of an intemperate goblet, and a
full stomach ? it poisons both the soul and body. All
poisons do not kill presently, and this will in process
of time, and hath formidable eifects at present.

But therefore methinks the temptations, which men
meet withal from without, are in themselves most un-
reasonable and soonest confuted by us. He that,
tempts me to drink beyond my measure, civilly invites
me to a fever; and to lay aside my reason as the Per-
sian women did their garments and their modesty at

*Pers. Sat. II.
You ask strong nerves, age that is fresh and hale •.
'Tis well ; go on. But how shall you prevail ?
For were great Jove himself to give his nod,
Y»»r feasts and revels would defeat tha God.

296 THE HOUSE OF FEASTING. Semi. XV.

the end of feasts : and all the questio >. then will be,
which is the worse evil, to refuse vour uncivil kind-
ness, or to suffer a violent head-ache, or to lay up
heaps big enough for an Knglish surfeit? Creon in the
tragedy said well;

Kgatrcrcv Si /J.01 FfV Tgcc <r etTTt^BiKrB'iLl, ^IVt,
'H fAoL/MuKi<rbiV'7' Ctrri^ov f^iyt a-itwv ;

It is better for me to grieve thee., O stranger! or to be
affronted by thee., than to be tormented by thy kindness
the next day and the morrow after ; and the frecdman of
Domitius, the father of JVero^ suffered himself to be
killed by his lord ; and tlie son of Praxaspes by Cam-
by ses^ rather than they ^vould exceed their own mea-
sures up to a full intemperance, and a certain sickness
and dislionour. For, (as Plutarch said well,) to
avoid the opinion of an uncivil man, or being clown-
ish, to run into a pain of thy sides or belly, into mad-
ness or a head-ache, is the part of a fool and a cow-
ard, and of one that knows not how to converse with
men citra pocvla et nidorem/m any thing but in the fa-
melick smells of meat and vertiginous drinkings.

Ebrius etpetulans, qui nnllura forte cccidit,
Dat poenas, noctcm palitur lugcntis amicuiu
Pelidae *

A drunkard and a olutton feels the torments of a
restless night, although he hath not killed a man;
that is, just like murderers and persons of an alfright-

* Juv. III. 278.

The drunken l)nlly, ere his man be slain,
Frets through the nisiht, and courts repose in vain ;
And while the thirst of blood his bosom burns,
Krom side to «ide in restless anguish turns.

(UFKORD.

Serm. XV. thk house of feasting. 29?

ing conscience; so wakes the glutton, so broken and
sick, and disorderly, are the slumbers of the drunk-
ard. Now let the epicure boast his pleasures, and
tell how he hath swallowed the price of provinces,
and gobbets of delicious flesh, purchased with the
reward of souls ; let him bragy?^rorem ilium convivio-
rum.) et foedissimum patrimoniorum cxitium culinnm,
of the madness of delicious feasts, and that his kitchen
hath destroyed his patrimony ; let him tell that ho
takes in every day,

Qiianluin lauscia bibebat,

As much Avine as would refresh the sorrows of forty
languishing prisoners; or let him set up his vain-
glorious triumph,

Ut qnod miilti Damalis meri
Bassura Thrcicia vicit ainystide,

That he hath knocked down Damalis with the tweor
ty-fifth bottle, and hath out-feasted Antho7iy or C7co-
^a^ra'^ luxury ; it is a goodly pleasure, and himself
shall bear the honour.

Ranim et memorabile magni

Giittiiris exerapluin, conducendusque magister.*

But for the honour of his banquet he hath some
ministers attending that he did not dream of; and in

* Juv. II. 114.

Some wild enthusiast, silver'd o'er with age
Yet fir'd by lust's ungovernable rage,
Of most insatiate maw, is nam'd the priest,
And sits fit umpire of the unhallowed feast.

GiFFORD.

VOL. I. .39

298 THE HOUSE OF FEASTING. SerW. XV.

the midst of his loud laughter, the gripes of the belly,
and the fevers of the brain, pallor ct genae pendnlae^
oculorum vlcera, trcmulae manus, furiales somni^ in-
quies nodunia, as Plirti/ reckons thcrn, paleness and
hanging cheeks, ulcers of the eyes, and trembling hands^
dead or distracted sleeps, these sj)eak aloud, that to-
day you eat and drink, that to-morrow you may di&,
and die for ever.

It Is reported concerning Socrates, that when
Athens was destroyed by the plague, he in the midst
of all the danger escaped untouched by sickness, be-
cause by a spare and severe diet, he had within him
no tumult of disorderly humours, no factions in hl»
blood, no loads of moisture prepared for charnel
houses, or the sickly hospitals ; but a vigorous heat»
and a well proportioned radical moisture; he had
enough for health and study, philosophy and religion^
for the temples and the academy, but no superfluities
to be spent in groans and sickly nights : and all the
world of gluttons is hugely convinced of the excel-
lency of temperance in order to our temporal feli-
city and health, because when themselves have left
virtue, and sober diet, and counsels, and first lost
their temperance, and then lost their health, they are
forced to run to temperance and abstinence for their
cure; vilis cnim tenuisque mensa (jit loquuntur pueri^
sanitatis mater est ;* then a thin diet and an hum-
bled body, fasting and emptiness, and arts of scat-
tering their sin and sickness, are in season ; but by
the same means they might preserve their health, br
which they do restore it ; but when they are well,
if they return to their full tables and oppressing
meals, their sickness was but like Vitellius vomiting,
that they might cat again ; but so they may entail
a fit of sickness upon every full moon, till both

'*■ Clirvsost.

Serm. XV. the house of feasting. 299

their virtue and themselves decrease Into the cor-
ruptions and rottenness of the grave. But if they
dehght in sharp fevers and horrid potions, in sour
palates and heaps of that which must be carried
forth, they may reckon their wealthy pleasures to
be very great and many, if they will but tell them
one by one with their sicknesses and the multitude
of those evils they shall certainly feel before they
have thrown their sorrows forth. These men {a.s St.
Paul's expression is,) heap up wrath against the day of
wrath, and the revelation of the day of God's most righ-
teous judgments. Strange therefore it is, that for the
stomach, which is scarce a span long, there should be
provided so many furnaces and ovens, huge fires and
an army of cooks, cellars swimming with wine, and
granaries sweating with corn; and that into one belly
should enter the vintage of many nations, the spoils of
distant provinces, and the shell-fishes of several seas.
When the heathens feasted their gods, they gave
nothing but a fat ox, a ram, or a kid ; they poured a
little wine upon the altar, and burned a handful of
gum: but when they feasted themselves, they had
many vessels filled with Campanian wine, turtles of
Liguria, Sicilian beeves, and wheat from Egypt, wild
boars from Illyrium, and Grecian sheep; variety, and
load, and cost, and curiosity : and so do we. It is
so little we spend in religion, and so very much upon
ourselves, so little to the poor, and so without
measure to make ourselves sick, that we seem to be
in love with our own mischief, and so passionate for
necessity and want, that we strive all the ways we can
to make ourselves need more than nature intended. I
end this consideration with the saying of the cynick ;
it is to be wondered at, that men eat so much for
pleasure sake ; and yet for the same pleasure should
not give over eating, and betake themselves to th*^
dehghts of temperance, since to be healthfid smd holy

300 THE HousR OF FEASTitfG. Senti. XVL

is so great a pleasure. However, certain it is, that
nomaii ever repented tliat he arose from the table
sober, healthful, and witli liis wits about liim; but
very many have repented, that they sat so long, till
their bellies swelled, and their /ieo/z/i and their virtue ^
and their God is departed from them.

SERMON XVI,

PART. II.

2. A CONSTANT full table IS less pleasant than the
temperate provisions of the virtuous^ or the natural ban-
quets of the poor. XagK T)i y.AvAeteL (pufl-a, 0T< Ta amyMLia. vrrtumrei

i-j:r'>ei<T'rA, t* ^i SvTrrog^KTTu. oujt nvayMfx, said Epicurus^ tfwnks be
to the God of nature^ that he hath made that which is
necessary to be ready at liand^ and easy to be had ; and
that which cannot easily be obtained^ is not necessary it
should be at all ; which in ellect is to say, it cannot
be constantly pleasant : for necessity and want make
the appetite, and the appetite makes the pleasure ;
and men are infmitely mistaken Avhen they despise
the poor man's table, and Avonder how he can endure
that life that is maintained without the exercise of
pleasure^ and that he can sulfer his day's labour, and
recompense it with unsavoury herbs, apd potent gar-
lick, with water-cresses, and bread coloured like the
ashes that gave it hardness ; he hath a hunger tliat
i>;ives it dellciousness ; and we may as well wonder
that a lion eats raw flesh, or that a wolf feeds upon
the turf; tliey have an appetite proportionable to
tliis meat ; and their necessity^ and their Imnger^ and
their 2ise, and their nature^ are the cooks that dress;

Serm. XVI. the house of feasting. 301

their provisions, and make them dehcate; and yet if
water and pulse, natural provisions, and the simple
diet, were not pleasant, as indeed they are not to
them who have been nursed up and accustomed to
the more delicious, tTmru. ^mIuv cvk. s9' iiS-cim <p!tKa>y; yet it is
a very great pleasure to reduce our appetites to na-
ture, and to make our reason rule our stomach, and
our desires comply with our fortunes, and our for-
tunes be proportionable to our persons. JS^on est
voluptas aqua et polenta,, (said a philosopher) sed sum-
ma voluptas est., posse ex his capere voluptatetn ; it is
an excellent pleasure to be able to take pleasure in
worts and water, in bread and onions ; for then a man
can never want pleasure when it is so ready for him,
that nature hath spread it over all its provisions.
Fortune and art give delicacies ; nature gives meat and
drink; and what nature glxes^ fortune cannot take
away ; but every change can take away what only
is given by the bounty of a (uW fortune ; and if in sat-
isfaction and freedom from care, and securitv and
proportions to our own natural appetite, there can be
pleasure, then v/e may know how to value the sober
and natural tables of the virtuous and wise, before
that state of feastings which a war can lessen, and a
tyrant can take away, or the pirates may intercept,
or a blast may spoil, and is always contingent, and is
so far from satisfying, that either it destroys the ap-
petite, and capacity of pleasure, or increases it beyond
all the measures of good things.

He that feasts every day feasts no day, iTev<py><riv, l.tti
iM TTOM), Tgy^jtv ;^;govo» And however you treat yourselves,
sometimes you will need to be refreshed beyond it ;
but what will you have for a festival if you wear
crowns every day ? even a perpetual fulness will
make you glad to beg pleasure from emptiness, and
Tariety from poverty or a humble table.

r>i)'2 IHK HOU9K OF FEASTING. Serm. XVL

PJcrnmqiiP griitar priiiripibus rices.
JVIiiiidaoque jiarvosiib lare paiipcruin
Coenae, sine aulacis, ot ostro,
Sollicitam explicucrc froiitem.*

But, liowever, of all things in the world a man may best
and most easily want pleasure ; which if you have en-
joyed, it passes away at the present, and leaves no-
thing at all behind it, but sorrow and sour remem-
brances. No man felt a greater pleasure in a goblet
of wine, than Lysimachus when he fought against
tlie Getnc ; and himself and his whole army were
compelled by thirst to yield themselves to bondage ;
but when the wine was sunk as far as his navel, the
pleasure was gone, and so was his kingdom and his
liberty ; for though the sorrow dwells with a man
pertinaciously, yet the pleasure is swift as lightning,
and more pernicious; but the pleasuies of a sober
and a temperate table are pleasures till the next day,
jKti Til jtTTsga/^ jjtTjac ywtvrut, as Tiniotlieus said of Platans
scholars; they converse sweetly, and are of perfect
temper and delicacy of spirit even the next morn-
ing; whereas the intempeiate man is forced to lie
long in bed, and foiget that there is a sun in the
sky; he must not be called till he hath concocted
and slept his surfeit into a truce and a quiet respite ;
but whatsoever this man hath suffered, certain it is
that tiie poor man's head did not ache, neither did
he need the juice of poppies, or costly cordials, phy-
sicians or nurses, to bring liim to his right shape

*Hor.O. III. 2!), 15.
Tofnin;aJ treats, an;l liiiiiii)lp rt'lls,

^' itii arat«;riil cliaii<ie ihe wealthy fly,
Where healtli-preseiving; plainness dwells,

Far from the carp<;t's' i^aiuly dye.
Snch scen'is have ciianned the pansys of care.
And siuooi.hd llie clouded i'oreiiead of'dcspuir. Francis.

Serm. XVI. the house ov feasting. 3G3

again, like Apuleius's ass with eating roses : and let
him turn his hour-glass, he will find his head aches
lontrer than his throat was pleased ; and^ which is worst,
his glass runs out with joggings and violence, and
every such concussion with a surfeit makes his life
look nearer its end, and ten to one but it will before
its natural period be broken in pieces. If these be
the pleasures of an epicure's table, I shall pray that
my friends may never feel them : but he thai sinneth
against his Maker shall fall into the calamities of in-
temperance.

3. Intempeiance is the nurse of vice ; 'A<pgo<;mc y^xa,
Fie/2M5-milk, so Aristophanes calls ivine, Travruv J'umv
(a«Tgo7roMf, the mother of all grievous things : so Pon-
tianus. For by the experience of all the world, it
is the bawd to lust : and no man must ever dare to
pray to God for a pure soul in a chaste body, if
himself does not live temperately, if himself make
provisions for the fleshy to fulfil the lusts of it ; fur in
this case he shall fmd that which enters into him shall
defile him more than he can be cleansed by those
vain prayers that come from his tongue, and not
from his heart. Intemperance makes rage and
choler, pride and fantastick principles ; it makes
the body a sea of humours, and those humours the
seat of violence : by faring dehciously every day
men become senseless of the evils of mankind, in-
apprehensive of the troubles of their brethren, un-
concerned in the changes of the world, and the ci ies
of the poor, the hunger of the fatherless, and the

thirst OI widows : «i>k «« t»v ^ai^oc^a^av 0/ Tv^xnot, clxk' tit, Tdy

Tgy<f)a/x£va)v, said Diogenes^ tyrants never come from the
cottages of them that eat pulse and coarse fare, but,
from the delicious beds and banquets of the effemi-
nate and rich feeders. For, to maintain plenty and
luxury, sometimes wars are necessary, and oppres-
aloQS and violence : but no lar.dlord did ever srrind

.304 THE HOUSE OF FEASTING. Sevm. XVI^

the face of his tenants, no prince ever sucked blood
froB his subjects, for the inaintainance of a sober and
a moderate proportion of good things. And this
was intimated by St. James ; do not rich men oppress
you, and draw you before the judgment-seat ?* for
all men are passionate to live according to that state
in which they were born, or to Avhich they are de-
volved, or which they have framed to themselves ;
those therefore that love to live high and deli-
ciously,

Et qiiibus in solo viveiidi causa palato,

who live not to God but to their belly, not to sober
counsels, but to an intemperate table, have framed
to themselves a manner of living, which oftentimes
cannot be maintained but by injustice and violence,
which coming from a man whose passions are made
big with sensuality and an habitual folly, by pride
and for2:ctfulness of the condition and miseiies of
mankind, are always unreasonable, and sometimes in-
tolerable.

regiistatiim digito terebrare salinum

Contentus perages, si vivere cum Jove tendis.*

Formidable is the state of an intemperate man,
whose sin begins with sensuality, and grows up in
folly and weak discourses, and is fed by violence and
applauded by fools and parasites, full bellies and
empty heads, servants and flatterers, whose hands are
full of Jlesh and blood, and their hearts empty of
pity and natural compassion ; where religion cannot
inhabit, and the love of God must needs be a stranger;

* James ii. 6.
t Pers. Sat. V. 138.
lie who on earth lor Heaven alone shall live,
Shall know full soon how much the Gods can give.

Drujmmond.

Serm. XVI. the house of feasting. 305

whose talk is loud and trifling, injurious and imper-
tinent ; and whose employment is the same with
the work of the sheep or the calf, always to eat ;
their loves are the lusts of the lower belly^ and their
portion is in the lower regions to eternal ages, where
their thirst, and their hunger, and their torment shall
be infinite.

4. Intemperance is a perfect destruction of wis-
dom. na;t"* >*«"'^''? '^2'^°'' «" 'T'«^" '"'°''» 3- f'uU gorged belly
never produced a sprightly mind : and therefore
these kind of men are called yA^^ie^i a.^y<ti, slow bellies,
so St. Paul concerning the intemperate Cretans,
out of their own poet : they are like the tigers of
Brasil, which when they are empty are bold, and
swift, and full of sagacity ; but benig full, sneak
away from the barking of a village dog. So are
these men, wise in the morning, quick and fit for
business ; but when the sun gives the sign to spread
the tables, and intemperance brings in the messes,
artd drunkenness fills the bowls, then the man falls
away, and leaves a beast in his room ; nay worse,
vsKi;*? (jLiira-vxi^^iL.^' they arc dead all but their throat and
belly ; so Aristophanes hath fitted them with a cha-
racter, carcasses above half loay. Plotinus descends
one step lower yet, affirming such persons, AmMett^mni,
to be made trees^ whose whole employment and life
is nothing but to feed and suck juices from the
bowels of their nurse and mother ; and indeed com-
monly they talk as trees In a wind and tempest, the
noise is great and querulous, but it signifies nothing
but trouble and disturbance. A full meal is like
Sisera''s banquet, at the end of which there is a nail
strucJi mto a man s neacl : ^; o-uyxaKKua-a n^i ctov KATifKouroi.
T«7 4"^!'"' "^i^^ '^"^ '''''■' <'"*«=tTOf ct?r>KoLu<riY, so xorphuric / it
knocks a man down, and nails his soul to the sen-
sual mixtures of the body. For what wisdom can
be expected from them, whose soul dwells in clouds
VOL. r. 40

306 THE HOUSE OP FEASTING. Strm. XVI.

of meat, and floats up and down in wine, like the
spilled cups which fell from their hands, when
thej could lift them to their heads no longer ?

5roAA(«£/f yot^ tv otvou KUfA-nri ri; vetusiyu ■ it IS a pCrieCt sllip-

wreck of a man, the pilot is drunk, and the helm
dashed in pieces, and the ship first reels, and by
swallowing too much is itself swallowed up at last.
And therefore the navis Agrigentina., the madness of
the young iellows of ji grigentum^ who being drunk,
fancied themselves in a storm, and the house the
ship, was more than the wild fancy of their cups,
it was really so, they were all cast away, they
were broken in pieces by the foul disorder of the
storm.

Hinc vini atque soinni degener discortlia.
Libido sordens, inverecundus lepos,
Variaeque pestes languidorum sensuum.
Hinc Irequenti raarcida oljlectaiuine
Scintilla mentis intorpescit nobilis,
Auiniusque pigris stertit in praecordiis.*

The senses languish, the spark of divinity that dwells
within is quenched ; and the mind snorts, dead
with sleep and fulness in the fouler regions of the
belly.

So have I seen the eye of the world looking upon
a fenny bottom, and drinking up too free draughts
of moisture, gathered them into a cloud, and that,

* Prudent, liym. de jejnn.
Bill drunken brawls to maddening dreams allure.
The act unhallowed and the word impure ;
While various grief awaits enjoyment dead.
The want remaining, and the pleasure fled.
Hence the last spark of Heaven's imparted fire,
Lies quenched, or choked, by unrestrained desire ;
The blunted spirit snores in sluggish rest,
4nd Life itself scarce animates the breast. A.

Serm. XVI. the house of feasting. 307

cloud crept about his face, and made him first look
red, and then covered him with darkness and an ar-
tificial night: so is our reason at a feast,

Putrem resudans crapulam
Obstrangulatae mentis ingeniiim premit.

The clouds gatlier about the head ; and according
to the method and period of the children, and pro-
ductions of darkness, it first grows red, and that red-
ness turns into an obscurity, and a thick mist, and
reason is lost to all use and profitableness of wise and

sober discourses l eLvtiMufxiAa-tf d-oxa>Si^ri^et Ivnt iTTi^Mrit T« 4''/C'''*

a cloud of folly and distraction darkens the soul, and
makes it crass and material, polluted and heavy,
clogged and loaden like the body : ■^vx" ^t/flt/Zgoc To^f «» tow
otvov ctv^QufJuaa-iiTi Kiti Ki^oLXctiQ i'ticnv o-otfAait iBT . tovjuivx t aud thcrc can-
not be any thing said worse, reason turns into folly,
wine and flesh into a knot of clouds, the soul itself
into a body, and the spirit into corrupted meat;
there is nothing left but the rewards and portions of
a fool to be reaped and enjoyed there, where Jlesh
and corruption shall dwell to eternal ages ; and there-
fore in scripture such men are called ^u.^vK^gS'ioi. Hes-
ternis vitiis animum quoque praegravant : their heads
are gross, their souls are emerged in matter, and
drowned in the moistures of an unwholesome cloud ;
they are dull of hearing, slow in apprehension, and
to action they are as unable as the hands of a child,
who too hastily hath broken the enclosures of his
first dwelling.

But temperance is reason's girdle, and passion's
bridle, 0^** <f'g5V))s-/c. so Homer m Stobaeus, that is iraip^oerwn y
prudence is safe, while the man is temperate, and
therefore <ra)?gov is opposed Ta ;t*x«<pgov<, a temperate man
is no fool ; for temperance is the «ra.<pgov<9-T«g/ov, such a«

* Cleai. Alexand,

^08 THE HOUSE OF FEASTING. Scvm. XVI.

Plato appointed to night-walkers, a prison to restrain
their Inordlnations ; it is (o/uy, 4t/;^«, as Pythagoras
calls it ; n^nTTtt agsTMf, so Socrates ; jcoj-^mjc aya^w itrAviuv, so
Plato ; a.o-'pu.xiia. rcov KtfKKitr'ruiv i^zuv, SO lamblicus / It is the
strength of the soul^ the foundation of virtue^ the orna-
ment of all good things^ and the corroborative of all
excellent habits.

5. After all this, I shall the less need to add, that
intemperance is a dishonour, and disreputation to the
nature, and the person, and the manners of a man.
But naturally men are ashamed of it, and the needs
of nature shall be the veil for their gluttony, and the
night shall cover their drunkenness. Ts»e wsu/^ova mt», t<,
3«^ atTTgov 'Br'.^ia-TiKXiTa.i;* wlilch the Apostle Tightly ren-
ders, the?/ that are drunk, are drunk in the night : but
the priests of Heliopolis never did sacrifice to the sun
with wine; meaning, that this is so great a dishonour,
that the sun ought not to see it; and they that think
there is no other eye but the sun that sees them,
may cover their shame by choosing their time, just
as children do their danger by winking hard, and not

lOOKing on. 2iivd-i^uv, Kti i^wgoTsgov Tn-iiiv, K!ti Jinca; ^ety^iv j tO

drink sweet drinks and hot, to ouafT great draughts,
and to eat greedily ; Theophrastus makes them
characters of a clown.

3. And now that I have told you the foulness of
the epicure's feasts and principles, it will be fit that
I describe the measures of our eating and drinking,
that the needs of nature may neither become the
cover to an intemperate dish, nor the freer refresh-
ment of our persons be changed into scruples, that
neither our virtue nor our conscience fall into an
evil snare.

1. The first measure of our eatinsf and drinklnor, is
our natural needs, Ah-^at k-j-tx a-c'/j.a., [Ami rn^'XTi'.s-^a.t kat* 4'^>'**'ii

* Alcaetis.

Serm. XVI. the house op feasting. 309

these are the measures of nature, that the body be
free from pain, and the soul from violence. Himg''r,
and thirsty and cold., are the natural diseases of the
body ; and food and raiment are their remedies, and
therefore are the measures.

In quantum sitis atque fames, et frigora poscunt,
Quantum, Epicure, tibi parvis suflecit in hortis.*

But in this there are two cautions. 1. Hunger and
thirst are only to be extinguished while they are vio-
lent and troublesome, and are not to be provided for
to the utmost extent and possibilities of nature ; a
man is not hungry so long till he can eat no more,
but till its sharpness and trouble are over ; and he
that does not leave some reserves for temperance,
gives all that he can to nature., and nothing at all to
grace ; for God hath given a latitude in desires and
degrees of appetite ; and when he hath done, he laid
restraint upon it in some whole instances, and of some
parts in every instance ; that man might have some-
thing to serve God of his own, and something to
distinguish him from a beast in the use of their com-
mon faculties. Beasts cannot refrain, but fill all the
capacity, v»'hen they can ,• and if a man does so, he
does what becomes a beast, and not a man. And
therefore there are some little symptoms of this inor-
dination, by which a man may perceive himself to
have transgressed his measures : ructation., uneasy
loads^ singing, looser pratings, importune drowsiness.,

*Juv. Sat. xiv. 318.
What call I, then. Enough ? What will afford
A decent habit, and a frugal board ;
What Socrates, of old, sufficient thought ;
And Epicurus : these, by nature taught,
Squared by her simple rules their biaoieless life ;
Nature and wisdom never are at strife. Gifforo.

^*?10 IIIK IJOUSR OF FEASTING. tSemi. XVI.

provocation of others to equal ami full chalices : and
thoui2;h ill every accident of" this si^^niiication, it is
hard for another to pronounce th.atthe man hath sin-
n< d, yet by these he may suspect Ijimseif, and learn
the next time to lioid tlie bridle harder.

2. This hunger must be natural^ not artificial and
provoked : for many men make necessities to the m-
selves, and then think they are bound to provide for
them. It is necessary to some men to have garments
made of the Calabrian (leece, stained with the blood
of the murex, and to get money to buy pearls round
and orient ; scelerata hoc fecit culpa ; but it is the
man's luxury that made it so ; and by the same prin-
ciple it is, that in meats, what is abundant to nature,
is defective and beggarly to art ; and when nature
vi^illingly rises from table, when the first course of
flesh, plain and natural, is done, then art, and scpiiis-
try, and adulterate dishes, invite him to taste hwd die,

yMS;t5' TlW^ io-fxiy a-st^m;, /uir^t t/voj txc yn^ iiV7rlcy.fv ;* Well niaV B.

sober man wonder that men should be so much in
love with earth and corruption, the parent of rotten-
ness and a disease, that even then, when by all laws,
witches and enchanters, murderers and man-slealers, are
chastised and restrained with the iron hands of
death ; yet that men should at great charges give
pensions to an order of men, whose trade it is to rob
themoft heir temperance, and wittily to destroy their

Ileal th ) K-J.TWS'i^'iiZ X.-U ^■J.UCtl^llAOV; X.UI T'UC (It. TWf yUC JC«VCA0')<lUv7*f)

the Greek fathers call such persons ;

curvac in tonis aniinao el coelri^tiiiiii iiuines ;

People bowed down to the earth ; lovers of pleasures
7norc than lovers of God :t ^'Jrclinas mcntes, so Jhitida-

T Viz. at) Areto, iinde siciit rx aliis F.friiriae figulinis lestacea vasa
Koniain defeiel)ant.

&erm. XVI. the house op feasting. 311

mus calls them, men framed in the furnaces of Etru-
ria, Aretine spirits^ beginning and ending in flesh
and iiithiness ; dirt and clay all over. But go to
the crib, thou glutton, and there it will be founds
that when the charger is clean, jet nature's rules
were not prevaricated ; the beast eats up all his pro-
visions because they are natural and simple ; or if he
leaves any, it is because he desires no moie than till
his needs be served ; and neither can a man (unless
he be diseased in body or in spirit, in affection or in
habit) eat more of natural and simple food than ta
the satisfaction of his natural necessities. He that
drinks a draught or two of water, and cools his thirst,
drinks no more till his thirst returns; but he that
drinks wine, drinks again longer than it is needful,^
even so long as it is pleasant. Nature best provides^
for herself, when she spreads her own table; but when
men have gotten superinduced habits, and new neces-
sities, art that brought them in must maintain them,
but ivantomiess and folly wait at the table., and sickness-
and death take away.

2. Reason is the second measure, or rather the rule:
whereby we judge of intemperance; for whatsoever
loads of meat and drink make the reason useless, or
troubled, are effects of this deformity ; not that reason
is the adequate measure ; for a man may be intemperate
upon other causes, though he do not force his under-
standing, and trouble his head. Some are strong to
drink, and can eat like a wolf, and love to do so, as
fire to destroy the stubble ; such were those harlots
in the comedy, quae cum amatore suo cum coenant^ li-
guriunt : these persons are to take their accounts
from the measures of religion, and the spirit: though.
they can talk still or transact the affairs of the worlds
yet if they be not fitted for the things of the spirit,
they are too full of flesh or wine, and cannot or care
not to attend to the things of God. But reason i;!:

812 THE HOUSE OF FEASTING. Sci'm. XVL

the limit, beyond which temperance never wanders;
and in every degree in which our discourse is troubled,
and our soul is hited from its wheels, in the same de-
gree the sin prevails. Dum sumus in quadam delin'
(juendi libidine, nebulis quibusdam insipientiae mens ob-
ducitur, saith St. Ambrose^ when the flesh-pots reek.
and the uncovered dishes send forth a nidor and
hungrij smells^ that cloud hides the face, and puts out
the eye of reason; and then tells them, mors in olla^
that death is in the pot^ and folly is in the chalice.^ that
those smells arc fumes of brimstone, and vapours of
Egypt ; that they will make their heart easy, and
llieir head sottish, and their colour pale, and their
liands trembling, and their feet tormented.

Mnilonim. lepornniqueet siiminis exitiis hie est,
Siilpluueiisquc color, carnifictsqiie pedes.*

For that is the end of delicacies, Sv^aSia, xiunc; iS'nv, ivr^v-
<(i«5ic aiidg-.ci; a*/ ttjvov ct^s/gcf, as Dlo Clwysostom, paleness and
eifeminacy, and laziness and folly ; yet under the do-
minion of the pleasures of sensuality, men are so
stript of the use of reason, that they are not only
useless in M'ise counsels and assistances, but thej
have not reason enough to avoid the evils of their
own throat and belly ; when once their reason fails..
^vc must know, that their temperance and their reli-
gion went before.

.'i. Though reason be so strictly to be preserved at
eur tables as well as at our prayers, and we can
never have leave to do any violence to it; yet the
measures of nature may be enlarged beyond the
bounds of prime and common necessity. For besides
hunofer and thirst, there are some labours of the bodv.

'■^ See wliillicr luxury. and feasting tend ;

Pale, liclpless, wretched, mark the Glutton's end !

Serm. XVI. the house op feasting. 313

and others of the mind, and there are sorrows and
loads upon the spirit bj its communications with
the indispositions of the body ; and as the labouring
man may be supphed with bigger quantities, so the
student and contemplative man with more dehcious
and spriteful nutriment: for as the tender and more
dehcate easily digested meats will not help to carry
burthens upon the neck, and hold the plough in so-
ciety, and yokes of the laborious oxen; so neither
will the pulse and the leeks, Lavinian sausages, and
the Cisalpine suckets or gobbets of condited bull's
flesh, minister such delicate spirits to the thinking
man; but his notion will be flat as the noise of the
Arcadian porter, and thick as the first juice of his
country lard, unless he makes his body a tit servant
to the soul, and both fitted for the employment.

But in these cases, necesnty and prudence.^ and ex-
perience., are to make the measures and the rule; and
so long as the just end is fairly designed, and aptly
ministered to, there ought to be no scruple concern-
ing the quantity or quality of the provision : and he
that would stint a swain by the commons of a stu-
dent, and give Philotas, the Candian, the leavings of
Plato., does but ill serve the ends of temperance, but
worse of prudence and necessity.

4. Sorrow and a wounded spirit may as well be
provided for in the quantity and quality of meat
and drink, as any other disease ; and this disease by
this remedy as well as by any other. For great sor-
row and importune melancholy may be as great a
sin as a great anger; and if it be a sin in its nature,
it is more malignant and dangerous in its quality,
as naturally tending to murmur and despair, weari-
ness of religion and hatred of God, timorousness
and jealousies, fantastick images of things and su-
perstition; and therefore as it is necessary to re-
strain the fevers of anger, so also to warm the freez-

voL. I. 41

314 THE HOUSE OF FEASTING. )S'erWt. XVh

ings and dulness of melancholy by prudent and
temperate, but proper and apportioned diets; and if
some meats and drinks make men lustful, or sleepy,
or dull, or lazy, or spritely, or merry; so far as meats
and drinks can minister to the passion, and thf pas-
sion minister to virtue, so far by this means they
may be provided for. Give strong c/ritik to hwi that
IS jeady to perish^ and wine to those that be of heavy
hearts^ let him drink and forget his poverty^ and rs'
member his misery no more^* said king LiemuePs mo-
ther. But this is not intended to be an habitual
cure, but single and occasional ; for he that hath a
pertinacious sorrow, is beyond the cure of meat and
drink; and if this becomes every day's physick, it
will quickly become every day's sin. Then, it must
always keep within the bounds of reason, and never
seize upon any portions of atfection. The Germans
use to mingle musick with their bowls, and drink
by the measures of the six notes of musick:

Ut relevet miserum fa/wm, soUtosque laftorcs:

But they sing so long, that they forget not their sor-
row only, but their virtue also, and their religion :
and there are some men that fall into drunkenness,
because they would forget a lighter calamity, run-
ning into the fire to cure a calenture, and beating
their brains out to be quit of the aching of their
heads. A man's heaviness is refreshed long before
he comes to drunkenness ; for when he arrives
thither, he hath but changed his heaviness, and taken
a crime to boot.

5. Even when a man hath no necessity upon him,,
no pungent sorrow, or natural or artificial necessity,,
rt is lawful in some cases of eating and drinking to

''■ Prov. xxxi. 6.

<ierm. XVI. the house of feasting. 315

receive pleasure and Intend it. For whatsoever is
natural and necessari/, is therefore ?iot criminal., be-
cause it is of God's procuring; and since we eat for
need, and the satisfaction of our need is a removing
of a pain, and that in nature is the greatest pleasure,
it is impossible that in its own nature it should be a
sin. But in this case of conscience, these cautions
are to be observed :

1. So long as nature ministers the pleasure and
not art, it is materially innocent. Si tiio veniat jure,
luxuria est :* but it is safe while it enters upon na-
ture's stock; for it is impossible that the proper eifect
of health, and temperance, and prudent abstinence,
should be vicious; and yet these are the parents
of the greatest pleasure in eating and drinking.
JMalum panem expeda, bonus fiet ; etiam ilium tene-
rum tibi et siligineum fames reddet : if you abstain
and be hungry, you shall turn the meanest provision
into delicate and desirable.

2. Let all the pleasure of meat and drink be such
as can minister to health, and be within the former
bounds. For since pleasure in eating and drinking
is its natural appendage, and like a shadow follows
the substance, as the meat is to be accounted, so is
the pleasure : and if these be observed, there is no
diiference whether nature or art be the cook. For
some constitutions, and some men's customs, and
some men's educations, and necessities, and weaknes-
ses, are such, that their appetite is to be invited, and
their digestion helped, but all this while we are within
the bounds of nature and need.

3. It is lawful, when a man needs meat, to choose
the pleasanter, even merely for their pleasures ; that
is, because they are pleasant, besides that they are
useful; this is as lawful as to smell of a rose, or to

* Seneca.

316 i'HK HoosR OF PEASTi\e. Sevm. XVI.

He in feathers, or change tlie posture of our body in
bed for ease, or to liear musick, or to walk in gardens
rather than the highways; and God hath given us
leave to be dehglited in those things, which he made
to that purpose, that we may also be delighted in him
that gives them. For so as the more pleasant may
better serve for health and directly to refreshment^ so
collaterally to religion : always provided, that it be in
its degree moderate, and we temperate in our desires,
without transportation, and violence, without unhand-
some usao-es of ourselves, or takino; from God and
fiom religion any minutes and portions of our alfec-
tions. When Eicadastes, the epicure, saw a goodly
dish of hot meat served up, he sung the verse of
Ho77ier,

Toy cf' rya> Avrto; uut, n.a.t ev Tu^t ^u^*; ioini^

and swallowed some of it greedily, till by its hands
of fire it curled his stomach, like pa/chment in the
flame, and he v.as carried from his banquet to his
grave.

Non poterat letho uobiliore inori :

It was fit he should die such a death, but that death
bids us beware o{ that folly.

4. Let tli^-pleasure as it came with meat, so also
pass away with it. Fhiloxenus was a beast ^f^^^Vs ^tots
<rw >«g«vsw av^cvdL t^uv, lic wjshcd liis throat as long as a
crane's, tiiat he might be long in swallowing his plea-
sant morsels ; moerct (fiod magna pars fell citatis exclusa
esset corporis angustiis ; he mourned because the
pleasure of eating was not spread over all his body?
that he might have been an epicure in his hands '•
and indeetl, if we consider it rigiitly, great eating and
drinking is not the greatest pleasure of the taste, but
ot the touch ; and Fhiloxenus might feel the unctioue

iSferm. XVT. the house op feastins. 31f

juice slide softly down his throat, but he could not
taste it in the middle of the long neck ; and we see
that tliej who mean to feast exactly, or delight the
palate, do libare, or pitissare^ take up little propor-
tions and spread them upon the tongue or palate ; but
full morsels and great draughts are easy and soft to the
touch ; but so is the feeling of silk, or handling of a
melon, or a mole's skin, and as delicious too as eat-
ing when it goes beyond the appetites of nature, and
the proper pleasures of taste, which cannot be per-
ceived but by a temperate man. And therefore let
not the pleasure be intended beyond the taste ; that
is, beyond those little natural measures in which God
intended that pleasure should accompany your tables.
Do not run to it beforehand, nor chew the cud when
the meal is done ; delight not in fancies, and expec-
tations, and remembrances of a pleasant meal: but
let it descend in latrinam^ together with the meals^
whose attendant pleasure it is.

5. Let pleasure be the less principal, and used as
a servant: it may be modest and prudent to strew
the dish with sugar, or to dip thy bread in vinegar ;
but to make thy meal of sauces, and to make the
accessary become the principal, and pleasure to rule
the table, and all the regions of thy soul, is to make
a man less and lower than an oglio, of a cheaper
value than a turbot; a servant and a worshipper of
sauces and cooks-, and pleasure and folly.

6. Let pleasure, as it is used in the regions and
limits of nature and prudence, so also be changed
into religion and thankfulness. Turtures cum bibunt^
non resupinant colla, say naturalists : turtles when
they drink lift not up their bills : and if we swallow
our pleasures without returning the honour and the
acknowledgment to God that gave them, we may
large bibere jumentorum morlo, drink draughts as large
as an ox, but we shall die like an ox, and change our

S18 TIIK HOUSE OK FEASTING. Semi. XVI.

meats and drinks into eternal rottenness. In all
relii^lons it hath been j)crniittcd to enlarge our tables
in the days of sacrifices and religious festivity.

Qui Veientaruin fcstis potare dlcbus,
Campaiia solitus trulla, vappainque profestis.*

For then the body may rejoice in fellowship with the
soul, and then a pleasant meal is religious, if it be
not inordinate. But if our festival days, like the
Gentile sacrifices, end in drunkenness, [^uiBvuv /jut* t*
^M(v] and our joys in religion pass into sensuality and
beastly crimes, we change tlie holiday into a day of
death, and ourselves become a sacrifice as in the day
of slaughter.

To sum up this particular ; there are, as you per-
ceive, many cautions to make our pleasure safe, but
any thing can make it inordinate, and then scarce any
thing can keep it from becoming dangerous.

Habet omnis hoc voluptas :

Stiinnlis agit furentes.
ApiuiiKpie par volantum,
UIji grata mella fudit,
Fiigit, et III i in i is teiiaci
Ferit icta corda morsu.f

And the pleasure of the honey will not pay for the
smart of the sting. Amorcs enim ct dcliciae mature et

'* Ilor. II. Sat. 3. 144.
In oarllirn nips, on some more solemn feast.
With temperate draiiglits, unblam'd indulgence, blest.

f Boetius, III), iii. nietr. 7.

Earh law less pleasure wears a sting ;

And as in 1I\ bla's wealth,

AVing'd terronrs to the treasure eling,

And wounds reward tlie stealth. A.

Serm. XVI. the housb of feasting. 319

celeriter deflorcscunt, et in omnibus rchvs vohpiatibus
maximis fastidium Jinitimum est. Nothing is so soon
ripe and rotten as pleasure : and upon all posses-
sions and states of tilings, loathing looks as being
not far oif ; but it sits upon the skirts of pleasure.

avT/|a.v a-vvi<p^}Moiutvm. He that greedilj puts his hand to
a delicious table, shall weep bitterly when he suffers
the convulsions and violence by the divided interests
of such contrary juices : oJs ytt^ x^"^"^^ bur/x^^ ctvctyna.; At^oQiv
fivjtToK iSiov oivox'^i'. For this is the law of our fiatiire., and
fatal necessity ; life is always poured forth from two
goblets.

And now after all this, I pray consider, what a
strange madness and prodigious folly possess many
men, that they love to swallow death and diseases
and dishonour, with an appetite which no reason can
restrain. We expect our servants should not dare
to touch what we have forbidden to them ; we
are watchful that our children should not swallow
poisons, and lilthiness, and unwholesome nourish-
ment; we take care that they should be well man-
nered and civil and of fair demeanour ; and we our-
selves desire to be, or at least to be accounted, wise, and
would infinitely scorn to be called fools ; and we are
so great lovers of health, that we will buy it at any
rate of money or observance ; and then for honour,
it is that which the children of men pursue with
passion, it is one of the noblest rew'ards of virtue,
and the proper ornament of the wise and valiant;
and yet all these things are not valued or considered
when a merry meeting, or a looser feast, calls upon
the mm to act a scene ofyb/Zy, and madness^ and health-
lessness., and dishonour. We do to God what we
severely punish in our servants; we correct our chil-
dren for their meddling with dangers, which them-
selves prefer before immortality ; and though no man

320 THE HOUSE OF FEASTING. Scrm. XVI.

thinks himself fit to be desjjised, jet he is willing to
make himself a beast, a sot, and a ridiculous monkey,
with the follies and vapours of wine; and when he
is high in drink or fancy, proud as a Grecian orator
in the midst of his popular noises, at the same time
he shall talk such dirty language, such mean lovr
things, as may well become a changeling and a fool,
for whom the stocks are prepared by the laws, and
the just scorn of men. Every drunkard clothes his
head with a mighty scorn ; and makes himself lower
at that time than the meanest of his servants ; the
boys can laugh at him when he is led like a cripple
directed like a blind man, and speaks like an infant
imperfect noises, lisping with a full and spongy
tongue, and an empty head, and a vain and foolish
heart: so cheaply does he part with his honour for
drink or loads of meat; for which honour he is
ready to die, rather than hear it to be disparaged by
another: when himself destroys it as bubbles perish
with the breath of children. Do not the laws of all
■wise nations mark the drunkard for a fool, with the
meanest and most scornful punishment ? and is there
any thing in the world so foolish as a man that is
drunk ? But, good God ! what an intolerable sorrow
hath seized upon great portions of mankind, that
this folly and madness should possess the greatest
spirits, and the wittiest men, the best company, the
most sensible of the word honour, and the njost
jealous of losing the shadoiv, and tlie most careless
of the thing? Is it not a horrid thing, that a wise,
or a crafty, a learned, or a noble person, should dis-
honour himself as a fool, destroy his body as a mur-
therer, lessen his estate as a prodigal, disgrace every
good cause that he can pretend to by his relation,
and become an appellative of scorn, a scene of
laughter or derision, and all, for the reward of for-

Serm. XVI. thb housb op fbastika. 321

getfulness and madness ? for there are in immode-
rate drinking no otiier pleasures.

Why do vaHant men and brave personages fight
and die rather than break the laws of men, or start
from their duty to their prince, and will sufier
themselves to be cut in pieces rather than deserve
the name of a traitor, or perjured ? and yet these
very men, to avoid the hated name of glutton or
drunkard^ and to preserve their temperance, shall
not deny themselves one luscious morsel, or pour a
cup of wine on the ground, when they are in-
vited to drink by the laws of the circle or wilder
company.

Methinks it were but reason, that if to give life
to uphold a cause be not too much, they should
not think it too much to be hungry and suffer thirst
for the reputation of that cause ; and therefore much
rather that they would think it but duty to be tem-
perate for its honour, and eat and drink in civil and
fair measures, that themselves might not lose the
reward of so much suffering, and of so good a rela-
tion, nor that which they value most be destroy-
ed by drink.

There are in the world a generation of men that
are engaged in a cause, which they glory in, and
pride themselves in its relation and appellative : but
yet for that cause they will do nothing but talk
and drink; they are valiant in wine, and witty in
healths, and full of stratagem to promote debauch-
ery ; but such persons are not considerable in wise
accounts ; that which I deplore is, that some men
prefer a cause before their life, and yet prefer wine
before that cause, and by one drunken meeting set it
more backward in its hopes and blessings, than it
can be set forward by the counsels and arms of a
whole year. Gcd hath ways enough to reward a
truth without crowning it with success in the hands

VOL. 1. 42

322 THE HonsE OP FEASTING. iSemi. XVL

of such men. In the mean time, they dishonour reli-
gion, and make truth be evil spoken of, and innocent
persons to suffer by their very relation, and the cause
of God to be reproached in the sentences of erring
and abused people : and themselves lose their health
and their reason, their honour and their peace, the
rewards of sober counsels, and the wholesome effeets
of wisdom.

Arcanum neqne tu scrutaberis ulliiis iinqiiara,
Cominissumqiie teges, el vino tortus et ira.*

Wine discovers more than the rack, and he that
will be drunk is not a person fit to be trusted ; and
thoui^h it cannot be expected men should be kinder
to their friend, or their prince, or their honour, than
to God, and to their own souls, and to their own bo-
dies; yet when men are not moved by what is sensi-
ble and material, by that which smarts and shames
presently, they are beyond the cure of rehgion, and
the hopes of reason ; and therefore they must lie in
hell like shecp^ death gnawing vpon them^ and the righ-
teous shall have domination over them in the morning of
the resurrection.

Seras tutior ibis ad lucernas,

Haec liora non est tua, cum furit Lyaeus,

Cum regnant rosae, cum niadeut capilli.f

Much safer it is to o;o to the severities of a watch-
ful and a sober hfe; for all that time of life is lost,

* Thus thine own thoughts, and friendship's sacred trust
Are basely sacrilic'd to wine and lust. A.

t Nay, better be ambition's slave
And rack thy wiifhiiirlit brain. —
Time is not thine, iC Bacchus rave,
And perlam'd folly rcig,n. A..

Serm. XVI. the house of feasting. 323

when wine and rage, and pleasure and folly, steal
away the heart of a man, and make him go singing to
his grave.

I end with the saying of a wise man : he is fit to
sit at the table of the Lord, and to feast with saints,
who moderately uses the creatures which God hath
given him ; but he that despises even lawful plea-
sures, on (xmov a-ufyiTToTn; Tmv 3ri(»v ety^oL Kelt a-uvct^)(UV, Shall nOt OUly

sit and feast with God, but reign together with him,
and partake of his glorious kingdom.

SERMON XVII.

THE MARRIAGE RING,'

OR,

THE MYSTERIOUSNESS AND DUTIES OF MARRIAGE.
PART I.

BPHES. V. 32, 33.

TJiis is a great Mystery, but I speak concerning Christ and the Church.
Nevertheless, let every one of you in particular so love his Wife
even as himself, and the Wife see that she reverence her Husband.

The first blessing God gave to man, was society ;
and that society was a marriage, and tliat marriage
was confederate by God himself, and hallowed by
a blessing : and at the same time, and for very many
descending ages, not only by the instinct of nature,
but by a superadded forwardness, (God himself in-
spiring the desire,)* the world was most desirous of
children, impatient of barrenness, accounting single
life a curse, and a childless person hated by God.
The world was rich and empty, and able to provide
for a more numerous posterity than it had.

Ei«IC t^OUUHVIl TiMCt

Xot/jt&y t^m' Trlu-j^'ii i' ovi't to. tikva ^tKti.

'■'' (luciTilib"t hominrm cui non est uxor, mininic esse hominera ; cuim
etiani in criptnr.i dicatur, niasciilmn tt foemiiiani creavit eos, et vo-
cavi' noni.ii euruin Adam, sen iioniincni. i;. I'llit/cr di.vit in Gem. Bab.
quicun jiit' ncgiigit praoct'ptiim dc luultiplicatione Imiuani generis,
habendum esse veiuti liuiuuitiam.

Strm. XVIL the marriagb rin«. 825

You that are rich, JVumenius^ you may multiply
your family; poor men are not so fond of children,
but when a family could drive their herds, and set
their children upon camels, and lead them till they
saw a fat soil watered with rivers, and there sit
down without paying rent, they thought of nothing
but to have great families, that their own relations
might swell up to a patriarchate, and their children
be enough to possess all the regions that they saw,
and their grand-children become princes, and them-
selves build cities and call them by the name of a
child, and become the fountain of a nation. This
was the consequent of the first blessing, increase and
multiply. The next blessing was, the promise of the
Messias^ and that also Increased in men and women
a wonderful desire of marriage : for as soon as God
had chosen the family of Abraham to be the blessed
line, from whence the world's Redeemer should de-
scend according to the flesh, every of his daughters
hoped to have the honour to be his mother, or his
grand-mother, or something of his kindred : and to be
childless in Israel was a sorrow to the Hebrew women,
great as the slavery of Egypt, or their dishonours in
the land of their captivity.*

But when the Messias was come, and the doctrine
was published, and his ministers but few, and his
disciples were to suffer persecution, and to be of
an unsettled dwelling, and the nation of the Jews^
in the bosom and society of which the church espe-
cially did dwell, were to be scattered and broken
all in pieces with fierce calamities, and the world
was apt to calumniate and to suspect and dishonour
Christians upon pretences and unreasonable jealou-
sies, and that to all these purposes the state of mar-

* Christiani et apud Athenas, tclc tow nyttfjuou x.ti o4'>*wov<^'««c refert
Julius Pollyx, lib. iii. 5Tsgj a).::t^a)v. Idem etiani Lacedaemoniae et Ho-
mae. Vide Festum, verb, uxorium, atque ibi Jos. fecal.

ii'2& THE MARRIAGE RING. Serm XVIL

rlage brought many Inconveniences; it pleased God
in this now creation to inspire into the hearts of
his servants a disposition and strong desires to live
a sinirle life, lest the state of marriao^e should in
that conjunction of things become an accidental
impediment to the dissemination of the gospel,
which called men from a coniinement in their do-
mestick charges, to travel, and (light, and poverty,
and difficulty, and martyrdom : upon this necessity
the Apostles and apo-stolical men published doc-
trines, declaring the advantages of single life, not
by any commandment of the Lord, but by the
spirit of prudence, <f/a tw maT^^v^tY nvstyxxv, for the present
and then incumbent necessities, and in order to the
advantages which did accrue to the publick minis-
teries and private piety. There are some (said our
blessed Lord) who makes themselves eunuchs* for
the kingdom of heaven ; that is, for the advantages
and the ministry of the gospel, non ad vitae bonae
meritum^ (as *S7. Jlusiin in the like case;) not that
it is a better service of God in itself, but that it is
useful to the first circumstances of the gospel and
the infancy of the kingdom,t because the unmar-
ried person does /ui^t/uvuv t* t-.v kv^iw, is apt to spiritual
and ecclesiastical employments ; first «>« c, and then
&yi=t^cfx(vci, holy in his own person, and then sancti-
fied to publick ministries ; and it was also of ease
to the Chiistians themselves, because as then it was,
wiien they were to Hee, and to flee, for aught they

* Etiain .Iiulaei, qui praeoeptum esse viris Tra/iToTo/av aiiint, imo ore
conctHiiint. tauj II disp. i s,i mn cs-.c ciiin iis qui assidiio U sis studio
vafarc voliin, aiia'< cliani iuiiimniljus al) aeriori oaniis stimulo. — Mai-
mon. XV. Halarh. hhoth.

f 'Ou -^iycD Si r-.u; KdiTrnii; fA^KUgx^Ui ^ st/ yetfAOif 'orpoirat/A.lXna-a.v wv e/uvitiTd'iif

'»'g5<}»rr*ii, li; flfTgoi/, -(cay n*uAcu, xa; tw *AA«y uTroa-ToKm, etc. — Ji.pi'it. ad
Pniludeljih.

Serm. XVII. the marriage ring. 827

knew, in winter, and they were persecuted to the
four winds of heaven; and the nurses and the
women with child were to sulFer a heavier load of
sorrow because of the imminent persecutions; and
above all, because of the great fatality of ruin upon
the whole nation of the Jews, well it might be said
by St. Paul a-A/^/v t)) o-agw iioua-iv oi TOfotJTOh such shall have
trouble in the flesh ; tiiat is, they that are married
shall, and so at that time they had : and therefore
it was an act of charity to the Christians to give
that council «>* i-t C/utv <^uS (aai, I do this to spare you.
and biKK ifAng ctfju^iiJ^nui ma.t: for wlien the case was al-
tered, and that storm was over, and the first neces-
sities of the gospel served, and the sound was gone
out into all nations ; in very many persons it was
wholly changed, and not the married but the un-
married had ^Ki-^iv iv tr^gK.1, trouble in the flesh ; and the
state of marriage returned to its first blessing, et non
erat bonuni homini esse solitarium, and it was not good
for man to be alone.

But in this first interval, the publick necessity
and the private zeal mingling together, did some-
times over-act their love of single life, even to the
disparagement of marriage, and to the scandal of
reli2:ion ; which was increased by the occasion of
some pious persons renouncing their contract ot
marriage, not consummate, with unbelievers. For
when Flavia Domitilla., being converted by JVercus
and Jlchilleus the eunuchs, refused to marry Jlurelia-
nus, to whom she was contracted ; if there were
not some little envy and too sharp hostility in the
eunuchs to a married state, yet Aurelianus thought
himself an injured person, and caused St. Clemens
who veiled her, and his spouse both, to die in the
quarrel. St. Theda being converted by St. Paid^
grew so in love with virginity, that she leaped back
from the marriage of Taimjris., where she was lately

L

28 THE MARRIAGB RING. ^rm. XVII.

eni^a^ecl. St. Iphi^enia denied to marry king Hir-
tacvs., and it is said to be done bj the advice of St.
Mattkew. And Susanna tlie niece of Diocletian re-
fused the love of jMaximianus the emperour ; and
these all had been betrothed ; and so did St. ^gnes,
and St. Felicula., and divers others then and after-
wards; insomuch, that it was reported among the
Gentiles, that the Christians did not only hate all
that were not of tlieir persuasion, but were enemies
of the chaste laws of marriage ; and indeed some
that were called Christians were so ; forbiddiui^ to
mar rij^ and commanding to abstain from meats. Upon
this occasion it grew necessary for the Apostle to
state the question right, and to do honour to the
holy right of marriage, and to snatch the mystery
from the hands of zeal and folly, and to place it in
Christ's right hand, that all its beauties might ap-
pear, and a present convenience might not bring in
a false doctrine, and a perpetual sin, and an intole-
ral/le. mischief. The Apostle therefore, who himself*
had been a married man, but was now a widower,
does explicate the misteriousness of it, and describes
its honours, and adorns it with rules and provisions
of religion, that as it begins with honour, so it may
proceed with piety, and end with glory.

For although single life hath in it privacy and
simplicity of aifairs, such solitariness and sorrow,
such leisure and inactive circumstances of living, that
there are more spaces for religion if men would use
them to these purposes ; and because it may have in
it much religion and prayers, and must have in it a
perfect mortification of our strongest appetites, i$

knaliiis epistol. ad I'hiladilph. Kt Clemens idem ait apiid fc.iisehiiiin
hist, crcles. lib. iii. sed laineii earn nou circumduxit siciit I'otnis :
probat autem ex Philip. 4.

\

Strm. XVTI. the marriage ring. 329

therefore a state of great excellency ; yet concerning
the state of marriage, we are taught from scripture
and the sayings of wise men, great things and hon-
ourable. Marriage is honourable in all men^ so is not
single life ; for in some it is a snare and a 7rveo,c-K:, a
trouble in the fleyh, a prison of unruly desires, which
is attempted daily to be broken. Celibate or single
life is never commanded ; but in some cases marriage
is ; and he that burns, sins often if he marries not ;
he that cannot contain must marry, and he that
can contain is not tied to a single hfe, but may
marry and not sin. Marriage was ordained by God,
instituted in paradise, was the relief of a natural
necessity, and the first blessing from the Lord ; he
gave to man not a friend, but a wife ; that is, a friend
and a wife too : (for a good woman is in her soul the
same that a man is, and she is a woman only in her
body; that she may have the excellency of the one,
and the usefulness of the other, and become amiable
in both :) it is the seminary of the church, and daily
brings forth sons and daug-hters unto God ; it was
mmistered to by angels, and Raphael waited upon a
young man, that he might have a blessed marriage,
and that that marriage might repair two sad families,
and bless all their relatives. ()ur blessed Lord,
though he was born of a maiden, yet she was veiled
under the cover of marriage, and she was married to
a widower : for Joseph^ the supposed father of our
Lord, had children by a former wife. The first
miracle that ever Jesus did, was to do honour to a
wedding ; marriage was in the world before sin, and
is in all ages of the v\'orld the greatest and most effec-
tive antidote against sin, in which all the world had
perished, if God had not made a remedy : and al-
thougli sin hath soured marriage, and stuck the man's
head with cares, and the woman's bed with sorrows
in the production of children : yet these are but throes
VOL. r. 43

330 THE marr;age rins. Senn. XVIL

of life and glory, and she shall be saved in child-bearing^
if she be found in faith and riirhleonsness. Marriai^e is
a school and exercise of virtue ; and though marriage
hath cares^ yet the sinirle life hath desires, which are
more troublesome and more danjxcrous, and often
end in sin, while the cares are but instances of duty
and exercises of piety : and therefore if single life
hath more privacy of devotion, yet marriage hath
more necessities and more variety of it, and is an
exercise of more graces. In two virtues, celibate or
single life may have the advantage of degrees ordina-
rily and commonly, that is, in chastity and devotion;
but as in some persons this may fail, and it does in very
many, and a married man may spend as much time in
devotion as any virgins or widows do ; yet as in mar-
riage even those virtues of chastity and devotion are
exercised : so in other instances, this state hath proper
exercises and trials for those graces, for which single
life can never be crowned :* here is the proper scene of
piety and patience, of the duty of parents and the cha-
rity of relatives; here kindness is spread abroad, and
love is united and made firm as a centre : marriage is
the nuj'sery of heaven ;t the virgin sends prayers to
God, but she carries but one soul to him ; but the
state of marriage fills up the numbers of the elect,
and hath in it the labour of love, and the delicacies
of friendship, the blessing of society, and the union
of hands and hearts; it hath in it less of beauty,
but more of safety, than the single life ; it hath
more care, but less danger ; it is more merry, and
more sad ;| is fuller of sorrows, and fuller of joys ;

S'ew uTTitpiTA; avS' etinov 7r'j^xJiJ\,\ia.t. — Plato.

t Adde quod etinuchus nulla, pietate movelur,
Nee generi Datisve cavet : dementia cunctis
In similes, animosque ligaut consortia daniui. Clavdian.

I KeLKit T* iru^^iVln; KHfJUiMX, TX^d-iVtit ft T9V |S(5V ahi7(V dV, ni.ri i?U Kt/t-

Serm. XVII. the marriage rin«. 831

it lies under more burdens, but is supported by all
the strengths of love and charity, and those burdens
are delightful. Marriage is the mother of the world,
and preserves kingdoms, and fills cities, and church-
es, and heaven itself.* Celibate, like the fly in the
heart of an apple, dwells in a perpetual sweetness,
but sits alone, and is confined and dies in singula-
rity ; but marriage, like the usefiil bee, builds a
house and gathers sweetness from every flower, and
labours and unites into societies and republicks, and
sends out colonies, and feeds the world with deli-
cacies, and obeys their king, and keeps order, and
exercises many virtues, and promotes the interest
of mankind, and is that state of good things, to
which God hath designed the present constitution
of the world.

Touvimv fv&i^fxaK ctKo^ov xaft. jc«/ tiva MTf^ct
Ac; 0P-JTOV do/ri ui^it' cpst/^s Si jt/sfp^Ais-wvjiv.f

Single life makes men in one instance to be like
angels, but marriage in very many things makes
the chaste pair to be like to Christ. This is a great
mystery^ but it is the symbolical and sacramental
representment of the greatest mysteries of our reli-
gion..:; Christ descended from his Father's bosom,
and contracted his divinity with flesh and blood,
and married our nature, and we became a church,
the spouse of the Bridegroom, which he cleansed
with his blood, and gave her his holy spirit for a
dowry, and heaven for a jointure ; begetting chil-
dren unto God by the gospel. This spouse he hath

* Siquis patriam raajorem parentera extinguit, ii) eo culpa est, quod
facit pro sua parte qui se euuucliat aul aliqua liberos producit ; i.e.
differt eoruin procreaiionem. — Farro m lege Maeniu.

I Then t]y concupiscence, and take a wife; —
Leave of thyself, the world, some living type. A.

332 THE MARRIAGE RING. Serm.XVIl.

joined to lilmself by an excellent charity ; he feeds
hei- at his own table, and lodges lier nigh his own
heart, provides for all her necessities, relieves her
sorrows, determines her doubts, guides her wander-
ings, he is become her head, and she as a signet
upon his right hand ; he first indeed was betrothed
to the synagogue and had many children by her,
but she forsook her love, and then he married the
church of the gentiles, and by her, as by a second
venter, had a more numerous issue, atque una domus
est ojuiiium jiliorum ejus, all the children dwell in the
same house, and are heirs of the same promises, en-
titled to the same inheritance. Here is the eternal
conjunction, the Indissoluble knot, the exceeding
love of Christ, the obedience of the spouse, the
communicating of goods, the uniting of interests,
the fruit of marriage, a celestial generation, a new
creature; sacramentwn hoc magnum est; this is the
sacramental mystery, represented by the holy rite
of marriage ; so that marriage is divine in its insti-
tution, sacred in its union, holy in the mystery, sa-
cramental in its signification, honourable in its ap-
pellative, religious in its employments : it is advan-
tage to the societies of men, and it is holiness to the
Lord. Dico autem iti Christo et ccclcsia ; it must be
in Christ and the church.

If this be not observed, marriage loses its myste-
riousness ; but because it is to eil'ect much of that
which it signifies, it concerns all that enter into those
golden fetters, to see that Christ and his church be in
at e\CAy of its peiiods, and that it be entirely con-
ducted and over-ruled by religion; for &o the Apostle
passes from the sacramental rite to the real duty : nev-
ertheless ; tljat is, although the former discouise were
wholly to explicate the conjunction of Christ and his
ehurcli by this similitude, yet it hath in it this real
f^uty, that the man love his wife, and the wife reverence

{!^erm. XVIL the marriage ring. 333

her husband : and this is the use we shall now make
of it ; the particulars of which precept I shall thus
dispose :

1. I shall propound the dutj as it generally relates
to man and wife in conjunction. 2. The duty and
power of the man. 3. The rights and privileges,
and the duty of the wife.

1. In Christo et ecclesia ;] that beo;Ins all, and there
is great need it should be so : for they that enter
mto the state of marriage, cast a die of the greatest
contingency, and yet of the greatest interest in the
world, next to the last throw for eternity.

'H f^oLXu. Kuygo; oxffigoc 'A;^*/o<?, jjcTs 0imctt.*

Life or death, felicity or a lasting sorrow, are in the
power of marriage. A woman indeed ventures most,
for she hath no sanctuary to retire to from an evil
husband ; she must dwell upon her sorrow, and hatch
the eggs which her own folly or infelicity hath pro-
duced ; and she is no more under it, because her
tormentor hath a warrant of prerogative, and the
woman may complain to God, as subjects do of tyrant
princes, but otherwise she hath no appeal in the
causes of unkindness. And though the man can run
from many hours of his sadness, yet he must return to
it again ; and when he sits among his neighbours, he
remembers the objection that lies in his bosom, and
he sighs deeply.

Ah turn te miserum, malique fati,
Q,uein attractis pedibus patente porta
Percurrent mugilesque raphanique.

'-* That dreadful crisis now on all attends,

When life and death the dubious conflict ends. A.

334 THE MARRIAGE RING. Sei'in. XVII.

The boys and the pedlars, and the fruiterers, sliall
tell of this man, when he is cai-ried to his grave, that
he hved and died a poor wretclied person. The
stags in the Greek ej)igrani, whose knees were clog-
ged with fiozen snow upon tiie mountains, came down
to the brooks of the valleys, x*'-'"^'" voT»go« a^r^jMiw *«/ yotu,
hoping to thaw their joints with the waters of tlie
stream ; but there the frost overtook them, an4
bound them fast in ice, till the young herdsmen took
them in their stranger snare. It is the unhappy
chance of many men, linding many inconveniences'
upon the mountains of single hfe, they descend into
the valleys of* marriage to refresh their tioubles,
and there they enter into fetters, and are bound to
sorrow by tlie cords of a man's or woman's peevish-
ness : and the worst of the evil is, they are to thank
their own follies ; for they fell into the snare by
entering an improper way ; Christ and the church
were no ingredients"in tiieir choice : but as the Indian
women enter into folly for the price of an elepliant,
and think their crime warrantable ; so do men and
women change their liberty for a rich fortune, (like
Eripkyh the ,/Jrgivc, "h ;^gt/a-iv <pt?.ciu av/go? fefs^stTo rt/ui.ivr^, she
preferred gold before a good man,) and show them-
selves to be less than money, by overvaluing
that to all the content and wise felicity of their
lives : and when they have counted the money and

* '^/t§'^ *" "^ a-yuf/.o;, Uo'j/mnvK, Truvn- J Kit aoi
'El' Ta '^m i(va.t t' a-y-A^ta. Tcev cfysi^fa^v.

'Aa/i< X'-'^'^ TiKvcey, i'i.C.

Whilst tlioii abstaiii.'d i'r.Jiii uiatrimonial bliss,
Gay and seciirc. JVtiintiiiiis, all thiugs seemed
The very best ofgood ; but married, lite,
And its afiairs, become the ivorst of ills. A.

Serm. XVIL the marriage riptg. 335

their sorrows together, how willingly would they"*
buy with the loss of all that money, modesty, or
sweet nature, to their relative ! the odd thousand
pound would gladly be allowed in good nature and
fair manners. As very a fool is he that chooses for
beautyt principally ; cut sunt eruditi oculi, et stulta
Tnens, (as one said,) whose eyes are witty, and their
soul sensual ; it is an ill band of affections to tie two
hearts together by a little thread of red and white.

And they can love no longer but until the next ague
comes, and they are fond of each other but at the
chance of fancy, or the small pox, or child-bearing-^

* Non ego illam mihi dotem duco esse quae dos dicitur,
Sed pudicitiara. et pudorein, et sedatiira cupidinem,
Deuiu metuiu, partntmn amorem, et cognatum concordiam.

Plant, in Amphit-

That which the world esteems a marriage dower,

Esteem not I ; — iVo ; — rather let my dower

Be chastity ; pure and well-tempered love, —

With ttlial piety, religious awe.

And peaceful intercourse of friends. A

f Facies, non uxor araatur ;
Tres rugae subeant, et se cutis arida laxet,
Fiant obscuri denies , ocul que n.inores,
Collige sarcinulas, dicet libertus, eiexi.—Jvven. sat. 0. 142:-

— You'll find he loves the beauty, not the wife ;
Let but a wrinkle on her forehead rise
And time obscure the lustre of her eyes ;
Let but the moisture leave her flaccid skin,
And her toeth blacken, and her cheeks grow thin.
And you shall hear the insulting husband say,
here you give oflence.

ClFFORI).

336 THE MARRIAGE RING. Strm. XVIF.

or care, or time, or any thing that can destroy a
pretty flower. But it is the basest of all when lust
IS the paranymph, and sohcits the suit, and makes
the contract, and joins the liands ; for this is com-
monly the etFect - of the former, according to the
Greek proverb,

AuTvp i/TiiTO, Jp-xnoiYf n 7Ta.fJxKi;, iicfs |US^ac iroi;.

At first for his fair cheeks and comely beard, the
beast is taken for a lion, but at last he is turned to
a dragon, Oi' a leopard, or a swine. That which is
at first beauty on the face may prove lust in the
manners.

'Ka/ y.i)fi^V teO-Vifi TTAiSig^'TrAK ^XliTi.

%o Eubnlus wittily repreliended such impure con-
tracts ; they offer in their marital sacrifices nothing
but the thigh, and tliat which the priests cut from the
goats when they were laid to bleed upon the altars.

'Eiv itc K:t\Mc a-a\ua.rog /2a«4« t(c (o My>g <fi;;o"/) KXt ttuTCi « "'"'■P^ s'vai xat' st/-
6ufAta.Y <fi^>) Kaxx <rstgK/jt»c, ttScev xo-t aLfji.si^T>trt)Lai; S't ou TiBmi/uaxi, Kfitvmu, saiQ

<S/. Clement. " He or she that looks too curiously
upon the beauty of the body, looks too low, and
hath flesh and corruption in his heart, and is judged
sensual and earthly in his affections and desires.''
Begin therefore with God, Christ is the President of
marriage, and the Holy Ghost is the fountain of pu-
rities and chaste loves, and he joins the hearts ; and
therefore let our first suit be in the court of heaven,
and with designs of piety, or safety, or charity ; let
no impure spirit defile the virgin purities and castifi-
raUons of the soul^ (as »SV. /^e/crV phrase is;) let all
siucli contracts besrin with relierious affections.

Serm. XVII. the marriage ring. 337

Conjugium petimus, partumque uxoris, at illi
Notum qui pueri, qualisve tutura sit uxor.*

We sometimes beg of God for a wife or a child,
and he alone knows what that wife shall prove, and
by what dispositions and manners, and into what
fortune, that child shall enter : but we shall not need
to fear concerning the event of it, if religion, and
fair intentions, and prudence, manage and conduct
it all the way. The preservation of a family, the
production of children, the avoiding fornication, the
refreshment of our sorrows by the comforts of so-
ciety, all these are fair ends of marriage, and hal-
low the entrance ; but in these there is a special or-
der ; society was the first designed, it is not good
for man to be alone ; children was the next, increase
and multiply ; but the avoiding fornication came in
by the superfoetation of the evil accidents of the
world. The first makes marriage delectable, the
second necessary to the publick, the third necessary
to the particular. This is for safety, for life, and
heaven itself;

Nam simulac renas inflavit dira cupido,
Hue juvenes aequum est desceadere ;

The other have in them joy and a portion of im-
mortality : the first makes the man's heart glad ; the
second is the friend of kingdoms, and cities, and fa-
milies ; and the third is trie enemy to hell, and an
antidote of the chiefest inlet to damnation: but of all

* Juv. X. 353.
By blind desire, by headlong passion- driven.
For wife, for heirs, we daily weary Heaven ;
Yet still 'tis Heaven's prerogative to know.
If heirs, or wife, will bring us weal or wo.

GfFFORD.

VOL. r. 44

338 THE MARRIAGE RING. Semi. XVIl.

these the noblest end is the multiplying children ;
miuidus cum patct^ dcorum Iristiimi aUpic injerum ijuasi
patct janua ; propterea uxor em liberorum (piuerendorum
causa ducere rclio'iosum est* said Varro ; it is religion
to marry for children : and Quintilian put it mto the
definition of a wife, est cnim uxor (juam jungit. quam
diducit utilitas ; cnjus haec rcverentia est, qvod lidetur
inventa in causa liberorum ; and theielbre ht. Jgrialius,
when he had spoken oi'hlias., and 'I'itus.,m\d Clement,
with an honourable mention of their virgin state, lest
he mii;ht seem to have lessened the manied Apostles,
at whose feet in Christ's kingdom he thought himself
unworthy to sit, he gives this testimony ; they were

'tMjTtev Tou yivo'jciirx'.v'-x.i:vov?j that they might not be dispa-
raged in their o:reat names of holiness and severity,
they were secured by not marrying to satisfy their
lower appetites, but out of desire of children. Other
considerations, if they be incident and by way of ap-
pendage, are also considerable in the accounts of
prudence ; but when they become principles, they
defile the mystery and make the blessing doubtful :
amabit sapiens., cupient caeteri, said Jifrcinius ; love is a
fair inducement, but desire and appetite are rude, and
the characteristicks of a sensual person : amare justi
et boni cst^ cupere impotcntis ; to love, btlon^s to a
just and a good man ; but to lust, or furiously and pas-
sionately to desire, is the sign of impotency and an
unruly mind.

2. Man and wife are equally concerned to avoid
all offences of each otiier in the beoinnincf of their
conversation ; every little thing can blast an infant
blossom ; and the breath of the south can shake the
little rings of the vine, when first they begin to
curl like the locks of a new weaned boy ; but when

* JVIacrobius ex Vanoiic. | Kpiiit. ad rhiladclph.

^errru XVII. the marriage ring. 339

by age and consolidation they stiifen into the hard-
ness of a stem, and have by the warm embraces of
the sun, and the kisses of heaven, brouglit forth
their clusters, they can endure the storms of the
north, and the loud noises of a tempest, and yet
never be broken : so are the early unions of an un-
fixed marriage ; watchful and observant, jealous and
busy, inquisitive and careful, and apt to take alarm
at every unkind word. For iniirinities do not mani-
fest themselves in the first scenes, but in the succession
of a long society ; and it is not chance or weakness
when it appears at hrst, but it is want of love or pru-
dence, or it will be so expounded ; and that which ap-
pears ill at first, usually affrights the inexperienced
man or woman, who makes unequal conjectures, and
fancies mighty sorrows by the proportions of the new
auvi early unkindness. It is a very great pas»ion, or
a huge foily, or a certain want of love, that cannot
preserve the colours and beauties of kindness, so
long as publick iionesty requires a man to wear their
sorrows tar tiie death of a friend. Plutarch compares
anew marriage to a vessel before the hoops are on,

H'XTJt. i-e^-Lf, fxit itTTo Tw Tu-^^jiiKTw pxtT;*? SixT7r:Lrtt 7r^:<pit!na:<;., every tiling

dissolves tiieir tender compaijinations ; hniyomrm

a^uje/ TufxTtyi^iy i^aCovTm, /uoyic vtto Tnigoi x.xt o'iJ'g u S'.AKviTi.t-, Wlieil tiie

joi.its are stiiTened and are tied by a iirm co.npli-
ance and proportioned bending, scarcely can it
be dissolved without fire or tlie violence of iron.
After the hearts of the man and the wife are en-
deared and hardened by a mutual confidence, and
experience longer tnan artifice and pretence can last^
there are a great many remembrances, and some
things present, that dash all little uakindnesses in
pieces. The little boy in the Greek epigraiU,* tnat
was creeping down a precipice, was inviied to his

* M*^ov TOW Mlfxoy AoTo^at x*/ ^uv^TOU,

340 THE MARRIAQK RING. Strm. XVII.

safety hy tlie sight of his mother's pap, when no-
thing else could entice him to return : and the bond
of common children, and the sight of her that nurses
what is most dear to him, and the endearments of
each other in the course of a long society, and the
same relation, is an excellent security to redinte-
grate and to call that lo^e back, which iolly and
triHing accidents would disturb.

Tonnentuin ingcns nubentibus haeret

Quae neqiieunt parere, et jmriu relinere maritos.*

When it is come thus far, it Is hard untwisting the
knot ; but be careful in its first coalition, that there
be no rudeness done ; for if there be, it will for ever
after be apt to start and to be diseased.

3. Let man and wife be careful to stifle llttlef
things, that as fast as they spring, they be cut
down and trod upon ; for if they be suflered to
grow by numbers, they make the spirit peevish,
and the society troublesome, and the affections loose
and easy by an habitual aversation. Some men are
more vexed with a fly than with a wound ; and
when the gnats disturb our sleep, and the reason is
disquieted, but not perfectly awakened ; it is often
seen that he is fuller of trouble, than if, in the day-
light of his reason, he were to contest with a potent
enemy. In the frequent little accidents of a fa-
mily, a man's reason cannot always be awake ; and
when his discourses are imperfect, and a trifling
trouble makes him yet more restless, he is soon be-

* hw. II. 136.

nor IriiiUiil prove

WiUi the dear pledges of a husband's love.

\ Uuacdam parva quidem, sed non toleranda maritis.l

J Juv. VI. 18.3.
<Soine luultg there are, though small, ivhich none can bear.

GiFKORB.

Serm. XVII. the marriage ring. 841

trajed to the violence of passion. It is certain that
the man or woman are in a state of weakness and
folly then, when they can be troubled with a trifling
accident; and therefore it is not good to tempt
their affections, when they are in that state of dan-
ger. In this case the caution is, to subtract fuel
from the sudden flame ; for stubble though it be
quickly kindled, yet it is as soon extinguished, if
it be not blown tyy a pertinacious breath, or fed
with new materials. Add no new provocations to
the accident, and do not inflame this, and peace
will soon return, and the discontent will pass away
soon, as the sparks from the collision of a flint ; ever
remembering, that discontents proceeding from daily
little things, do breed a secret undiscernible disease,
which is more dangerous, than a fever proceeding
from a discerned notorious surfeit.

4. Let them be sure to abstain from all those
things, which by experience and observation they
find to be contrary to each other. They that go-
vern elephants, never appear before them in white,
and the masters of bulls keep from them all gar-
ments of blood and scarlet, as knowing that they
will be impatient of civil usages and discipline,
when their natures are provoked by their proper
antipathies. The ancients in their marital hieroglj-
phicks used to depict JMurcury standing by Venu,s\
to signify, that by fair language and sweet entrea-
ties, the minds of each other should be united ;
and hard by them, suadam et gratias descripserunt*

* Hujus enina rari, summique voluptas

Nulla boni, quo^ties aniino corrupta superbo

Plus aloes quam mellis habet. — Juven.f sat. vi. 178.

t For say, what pleasure can you hope to find,
E'en in the boast, the phoenix of her kind,
If vvarp'd by pride, on all around she lonr.
And in your cup more gall than honey pour. Gifford.

343 THE MAFtRIAGE RING. Sevm. XVII.

they would have all drliciousness of manners, com-
pliance and mutual observance to abide.

5. Let the husband and wife infinitely avoid a
curious distinction of mine and thine ; lor this hath
caused all the laws, and all the suits, and all the
wars in the world; let them who have but one per-
son, have also but one interest. The husband and
wife are heirs to each otiier, (as Dionysius Hulicar-
nasseus relates fiom Romulus.,) if they die without
children ; but if there be children, the wife is TcnTaiTa
i«ro^o/goc, a partner m the inheritance. But during their
life, the use and employment is common to both their
necessities, and in this there is no other dilference of
right, but that the man hath the dispensation ol all,
and may keep it from his wife just as the governour of
a town may keep it from the right owner ; he hath
the power., but no ri^ht to do so. And when either of
them begins to impropriate, it is like a tumour in tlie
flesb, it draws more than its share ; but what it feeds
on, turns to a bile : and therefore the Romans forbade
any donations to be made between man and wife,
because neither of them could transfer a new right
of those things, which already they had in common ;
but this is to be understood only concerning the uses
of necessity and personal conveniences ; for so all
may be the woman's, and all may be tiie man's in
several regards. Corvinus dwells in a farm and
receives all its profits, and reaps and sows as he
pleases, an J eats of tiie corn and drinks of the wine ;
it is iiis own : but all that also is his lord's, and for it
Corvinus pays acknowlodgiuent; and his patron hath
such powers and uses of it as are proper to the lords;
and yet for all this, it may be the king's too, to all the
piu'poses that he can iu;ed, and is all to be accounted
m tiie census, and lor cc^riuin services and times of
danger: so are the riches of a family, they are a

Serm. XVII. the marriage Rise. 34S

woman's as well as a man's : they are her's for need,
and her's for ornament, and her's for modest delight,
and for the uses of religion and prudent charity ; but
the disposing them into portions of inheritance, the
assignation of charges and governments, stipends and
rewards, annuities and greater donatives, are the
reserves of the superiour right, and not to be invaded
by the under-possessors. But in those things, where
they ought to be common, if the spleen or the belly
swells and draws into its capacity much of that which
should be spent upon those parts which have an
equal right to be maintained. It is a dropsy or a con-
sumption of the whole, something that is evil, because
it is unnatural and monstrous. JMacarivs in his thir-
ty-second homily, speaks fully in this particular ; a
woman betrothed to a man, bears all her portion, and
with a mighty love pours it Into the hands of her hus-
band, and says, i^-oi oviiv s;^* I have nothing of my own ;
my goods, my portion, my body, and my mind, is yours*

all thai a woman hath, is reckoned to the right of her
husband ; not her wealth and her person only, but
her reputation and her praise ; so Liicicm. But as
the earth, the mother of all creatures here below,
sends up all its vapours and proper emissions at the
command of the sun, and yet requires them again to
refresh her own needs, and they are deposited be-
tween them both, in the bosom of a cloud, as a common
receptacle, that they may cool his flames, and yet
descend to make her fruitful : so are the proprieties
of a wife to be disposed of by her lord ; and yet all
are for her provision, it being a part of his need to
refresh and supply her's, and it serves the interest of
both, while it serves the necessities of either.

These are the duties of them both, which have?
eommon regards and equal necessities and obhga-

U44 THE MAKRIAGK RING. SeWl. XVlll.

tlons ; and Indeed there is scarce any matter of"
duty, but It concerns them both ahke, and is only
distinguished by names, and hath its variety by cir-
cumstances and httle accidents : and what in one
is called love^ in the other is called reverence ; and
what in the wife is obedience^ the same in the man is
duty. He provides, and she dispenses ; he gives
commandments, and she rules by them ; he rules
her by authority, and she rules him by love ; she
ought by all means to please him, and he must by
no means displease her. For as the heart is set in
the midst of the body, and though it strikes to one
side by the prerogative of nature, yet those throbs
and constant motions are felt on the other side also,
and the influence is equal to both : so it is in conju-
gal duties ; some motions are to the one side more
than to the other, but the interest is on both, and
the duty is equal in the several instances. If it be
otherwise, the man enjoys a wife as Periander did
his dead Melissa^ by an unnatural union, neither
pleasing, nor holy, useless to all the purposes of so-
ciety, and dead to content.

SERMON XVm.

PART n.

The next inquiry is more particular, and consi-
ders the power and duty of the man : let every one
of you so love his wife., even as himself ; she is as him-
scli^ the man hath power over her as over himself,
and must love her equally. A husband's power over

AV/'/n. XVIIL THE MARRIAGK RING. o4o

his wife is paternal and friendly, not magisterial and
despotick. The wife is in pcrpetua tutela^ under con-
duct and council ; for the power a man hath, is
founded in the understanding, not in the will or
force ; it is not a power of coercion, but a power of
advice, and that government, that wise men have
over those who are fit to be conducted by them :
et vos in manu et in tutela, non in serviiio^ debctis habere
eas, et malle patres vos, et viros, quam dominos diet,
said Valerius m Livy ; husbands should rather he fa-
thers than lords. Homer adds more soft appellatives
to the character of a husband's duty; !t*t«p ^«v ^«p s9-t<
^.vTMKxi frorvM /uDimp, » Si ma-tyvulo;; tliou art to be a father and
a mother to her, and a brother : and great reason,
unless the state of marriage should be no better than
the condition of an orphan. For she that is bound
to leave father and mother and brother for thee,
either is miserable, like a poor fatherless child, or
else ought to find all these, and more, in thee. JlJe-
dea in Euripides had cause to complain when she
found it otherwise.

IlatVTaV cT' 05-' STt' ifJI.-\,ll)(jX. KdLl ysa^fAHV i^it

TvvaLiKi ■, icTfyisv etSAtOfTccrov ipurov,

Ac TefCiTcL fJLtV Sil ^jjitlfAditaiV VTTiflSoXll

Iloiriv vfta,i7Sra.t, JsoTraTnv t« s-ai^MotTOc xstCuv.

Which St. Ambrose well translates :* it is sad when
virgins are with their own money sold to slavery ;
and that services are in better state than mar-
riages ; for they receive wages, but these buy their
fetters, and pay dear for their loss of liberty ; and
therefore the Romans expressed the man's power over
his wife but by a gentle word ; nee vero mulieribusj
praefectus reponaiiir, qui apud Graecos creari solet, sed
sit censor qui viros doceat moderari uxoribus, said Ci^

* Fxhor. ad virg.

VOL. I. 45

.1I<; THE MARRIAGE RING. Semi. XVIII.

ccro ; let there be no govcrnour of the Avoman appoint-
ed, but a censor of manners, one to tearh the men
to moderate their wives ; that is, fairly to induce them
to the measures of their own proportions. It was
rarely observed of Philo., eu to ^» (pavat*, « yuv» w w^a'K*c «,<*«,

Mc ^virov x.4« «Kiuiip>,. when jhlum made tliat fond excuse
for his folly in eating the forbidden fruit, he sajd,
the woman thou gavest me to be with me, she gave
me. He says not, The woman which thou gavest
to me : no such thing ; she is none of his goods, none
of his possessions, not to be reckoned amongst his
servants; God did not give her to him so; but,
the woman thou gavest to be with me ; that is,
to be my partner, the companion of my joys arid
sorrows ; thou gavest her for use, not for dominion.
The dominion of a man over his wife is no other
than as the soul rules the body ; for which it takes
a mighty care, and uses it with a delicate ten-
derness, and cares for it In all contingencies, and
watches to keep it from all evils, and studies to make
for it fair provisions, and very often is led by its incli-
nations and desires, and does never contradict its ap-
petites, but when they are evil, and then also not
Avithout some trouble and sorrow ; and its government
comes only to this, it furnishes the body with light
and understanding, and the body furnishes the soul
with hands and feet ; the soul governs, because the
body cannot else be happy, but the government is no
other than provision; as a nurse governs a child,
when she causes him to eat, and to be warm, and dry,
and (juiet: and yet even the very government itself
is divided ; for man and wife in the I'amily, are as the
sun and moon in the hrmament of heaven; he rules
by day, and she by nigiit; that is, in the lesser and
more proper circles of her alfairs, in the conduct ol
domestick provisions and necessary offices, and shines

Serm. XVIII. the marriage ring. S47

only by his light, and rules by his autliority: and as
tiiG moon in opposition to the sun shines bright-
est; that is, then, when she is in her own circles and
separate regions; so is the authority of the wife
then most conspicuous, when she is separate and
in her proper sphere ; in gynaeceo, in the nursery
and offices of domestick employment: but when she
is in conjunction with tlie sun her brother; that
is, in that place and employment in which his care
and proper offices are employed, her light is not
seen, her authority hath no proper business ; but else
there is no difference : for they were barbarous
people, among whom wives were instead of ser-
vants, said Spartinnus in Caracalla ; and it is a sign of
impotency and weakness, to force the camels to kneel
for their load, because thou hast not spirit and
strength enough to climb : to make the affections and
evenness of a wife bend by the flexures of a servant,
is a sign the man is not wise enough to govern, when
another stands by. So many differences as can be in
the appellatives of dominus and domina, governor
and governess, lord and lady, master and mistress,
the same difference there is in the authority of man
and woman, and no more. Si tu Caivs^ ego Caia, was
pubhckly proclaimed upon the threshold of the young
man's house, when the bride entered into his hands
and power; and the title o[ domina, in the sense of
the civil law, was among the Romans given to wives.

Hi dominam Ditis thalamo diducere adorti,*

said Virgil: where, though Servius says it was spo-
ken after the manner of the Greeks, who called the

* JEaeid. Lib. vi.
Who from his lofty dome aspir'd to lead
The beauteous partner of his royal bed.

•M8 THK MAKRIAGB RING. Serm XVIII.

wife Si7r(Toiv*v, lady or mistress, yet it was so among coth
the nations.

-4c doraiis (lominam voca. — soys Catullus ;

Hacrebit dominac vir comes ipse suae. — so Martial :*

And therefore, ahhougli there is just measure of sub-
jection and obedience due from the wife to tlie hus-
band, (as I shall hereafter explain,) yet nothing of
this is expressed in the man's character, or in his
duty; he is not conmianded to rule, nor instructed
how, nor bidden to exact obedience, or to defend
his privilege; all his duty is signified by love, by
nourishing and cherishing ^^ by being joined with her
in all the unions of charity, by not being bitter to
hcr^X by dwelling with her according to knoicledge,,
giving honour to her :^ so that it seems to be with
husbands, as it is with bishops and priests, to whom
much honour is due, but yet so that if they stand
upon it, and challenge it, they become less honour-
able. And as amongst men and women humility is
the way to be preferred ; so it is in husbands, they
shall prevail by cession, by sweetness and counsel,
and charity and compliance. So that we cannot
discourse of the man's right, -without describing the
measures of his duty; that therefore follows next.

Let him love his wife even as himself :^ that is his
duty, and the measuic of it too; which is so plain,
that if he understands how he treats himself, there
needs nothing be added concerning his demeanour
towards her, save only that we add the particulars,
in which holy scripture histances this general com-
mandment.

M;, TTiKg^rtmli- That is the first. Be not bitter against
her-: and this is the least index and signification of

>^ Ppithal. Juliae fEphes. v25. | Col. iii. 19. 1| 1 Peter, iii. 7!

Svrm. XVIIT. the marriage rinr. 349

love ; a civil man is never bitter against a friend or
a stranger, much less to him that enters under his
roof, and is secured by the laws of hospitality. But
a wife does all that, and more ; she quits all her in-
terest for his love ; she gives him all that she can
give ; she is as much the same person as another
can be the same, who is conjoined by love, and
mystery, and religion, and all that is sacred and
profane.

Non equidera hoc dubites amborum foedere certo
Consentire dies, et ab uno sidere duci :*

They have the same fortune, the same family, the
same children, the same religion, the same interest,
the same flesh, [erunt duo in carnem unam ;] and
therefore this the Apostle urges for his fx» ^^^^1%
no man hateth his own fleshy but nourisheth and cher-
isheth it ; and he certainly is strangely sacrilegious,
and a violator of the rights of hospitality and sanc-
tuary, who uses her rudely, who is fled for protec-
tion, not only to his house, but also to his heart and
bosom. A wise man will not wrangle with any
one, much less with his dearest relative; and if it
be accounted indecent to embrace in publick, it is
extremely shameful to brawl in publick : for the
other is in itself lawful ; but this never, though it
were assisted with the best circumstances of which
it is capable. J^Iarcus Aurelius said, that a wise
man ought often to admonish his wife, to reprove her
seldom^ but never to lay his hands'f upon her : neque

* Per. sat. V. 44.
On us, my friend, like fortune still awaits,
And stars consenting have conjoined our lates. Drummond.

t Tibull. I. 10. 61.
Ah lapis est, ferrumque, suam quicunque puellam
Verberat : e coelo diripit ille deos.

350 THE MARRIAGE RING. Serm. XVIII.

verberihus^ neque maledidis exasperandam vxorem,
said the doctors of the Jaws ; and Homer brings in
Jupiter sometimes speaking shaiply to Jiino^ (ac-
cording to the Greek liberty and empire,) but made
a pause at striking her,

'Oy fjLdLy oiS' it OLvri icaxtp'^i^iifQ ttKtyitvK
TlpetTH trxu^tixi icttl <7S 'rr^jtyMtv ifjL*.(r(roi. — Iliad O.*

And the Ancients use to sacrifice to Jimo ^ct^nxioc, or
the president of marriage, without gall ; and St.
Basil observes and urges it, by way of upbraiding
quarrelling husbands ; efiam vipera virus ob nuptia-
Tum venerationem evomit^ the viper casts all his poi-
son when he marries his female ; tu duritiam animi^
tu feritatem., tu crudelitatem ob wiionis reverentiam

Sit satis e membris teniiem praescindere vestem,
Sit satis ornatas dissoluisse comas.

Sit laorimas inovisse satis ; qiiater ille beatus,

Quo ten^ra irato fiere piiella potest.
Sed manibus qui saevus erit, sciitiimqiie sudemque

Is gerat, et miti sit procul a Venere.

What iron wretch dare lift his liardy hand

Against the woman he hath sworn to love ?
That flinty heart would burst each sacred band,

And wreak its vengeance on the Gods above !
Is't not enough, thy voice afflicts the lair

Her locks dishevelled, and her vesture torn ?
Is't not enough, if tears her grief declare?

Blest, though otlended, if thy charmer mourn.

If tliou must war, defy some noble foe ;

Steel thy stern heart, and tempt the crimson'd plain :
Let manly vigour render blow for blow,
While Love's delights to weaker souls remaia. A.

'' * II. XV. 17.

Canst thou, unhappy in thy wiles, withstand.
Our power immense, and brave the almighty hand ?

Serm. XVIH. the marriage ring. S5t

non deponis ?* He is worse than a viper, who for
the reverence of this sacred union will not abstain
from such a poisonous bitterness ; and how shall
he embrace that person whom he hath smitten re-
proachfully? for those kindnesses are indecent which
the fighting-man pajs unto his wife, St. Chrysos-
tom preaching earnestly against this barbarous in-
humanity of striking the wife, or reviling her with
evil language, says, it is as if a king should beat
his viceroy and use him like a dog ; from whom
most of that reverence and majesty must needs
depart, which he first put upon him, and the sub-
jects shall pay him less duty, how much his prince
hath treated him with less civility ; but the loss re-
dounds to himself; and the government of the whole
family shall be disordered, as if blows be laid upon
that shoulder, which, together with the other, ought
to bear nothing but the cares and the issues of a
prudent government. And it is observable, that
no man ever did this rudeness for a virtuous end ;
it is an incompetent instrument, and may proceed
from wrath and folly, but can never end in vir-
tue and the unions of a prudent and fair society..
Quod si verberaveris^ exasperabis morbum^ (saith aS'L
Chrysostom^ asperitas enim mansuetudme^ non alia
asperitate^ dissolmtur ; if you strike, you exasperate
the wound, and (like Cato at Ltica in his despair)
tear the wounds in pieces ; and yet he that did so ill
to himself whom he loved well, he loved not women-
tenderly, and yet would never strike ; and if the
man cannot endure her talking, how can she endure
his striking ? But this caution contains a duty in it
which none prevaricates, but the me/^nest of the
people, fools and bedlams, whose kindness is a curse,
whose government is by chance and violence, and.
their families are herds of talking cattle.

* Homil. rij. hexaem.

352 THE MARRiAGB RING. Herm.XVIll'

Sic alternos roficit ciir<;us
Alterniis amor, sic astrigeris
Bellura discors exulat oris.
Haec conrordia t(Mnpcrat acquis
Eleinenta inodis, iit piigiiantia
Vicibus ccdaiit liiimida siccis,
Junganiqiie iidcin irigora tiaramis.'*'

The marital love is Infinitely removed from all pos-
sibility of such rudenesses : it is a thing pure as
light, sacred as a temple, lasting as the world ; ami'
citia, quae desinere potuit, nunquam verafnit^ said one;
tliat love that can cease, was never true : it is 'oiJ.i>adLf
so JMoses called it ; it is 'y^/a, so St. Paul ; it is <t>'AOTw,
so Homer ; it is (ptK<J<pe^c<rum, so Flutarcli; that is, it con-
tains in it all sweetness, and all society, and felicity,
and all prudence, and all wisdom. For there is
nothing can please a man without love ; and if a man
be weary of the wise discourses of the Apostles,
and ofv the innocency of an even and a private
fortune, or hates peace or a fruitful year, he hath
reaped thorns and thistles from the choicest flowers
of paradise ; for nothing can sweeten felicity itself but
love : but when a man dwells in love, then the
breasts of his wife are pleasant as the droppings
upon the hill of Hermon., her eyes are fair as the
light of heaven, she is a fountain sealed, and he can
quench Ills thirst, and ease his cares, and lay his
sorrow down upon her lap, and can retire home
as to his sanctuary and refectory, and his gardens

* Tliiis inntuai lovr rewards conniil)ial life,
And exiles discord from our peaceful roof;
So forms the differing elements of temper,
That fire and sweetness amicably blend
In union sweet of matrimonial bliss. A.

Btrm.XVIII. tub marriage ring. '353

of sweetness and chaste refreshments.* No man
can tell but he that loves his children, how many
delicious accents make a man's heart dance in the
pretty conversation of those dear pledges ; their
childishness, their stammering, their little angers,
their innocence, their imperfections, their necessities
are so many little emanations of joy and comfort
to him that delights in their persons and society ;
but he that loves not his wife and children, feeds a
lioness at home, and broods a nest of sorrows; and
blessing itself cannot make him happy; so that all
the commandments of God enjoining a man to love
his wife^ are nothing but so many necessities and
capacities of joy. She that is loved is safe^ and he
that loves is joyful. Love is a union of all things
excellent ; it coritains in it, proportion and satisfac-
tion, and rest, and confidence ; and I wish that this
"were so much proceeded in, that the heathens
themselves could not go beyond us in this virtue,
and its proper and its appendant happiness. Tibe-
rius Gracchus chose to die for the safety of his wife ;
and yet methinks to a Christian to do so, should be
no hard thing; for many servants will die for their
masters, and many gentlemen will die for their
friend ; but the examples are not so many of those^
that are ready to do it for their dearest relatives,
and yet some there have been. Baptista Fregosa,
tells of a JVeapolitan, that gave himself a slave to the

ITor. O. I. 13, 17.

* Felices ter et amplius,
Quos irrupta tenet copula, nee raalis

Divulsos qiieriinoniis,
Suprema citius solvet amor die.

Thrice happy they, iu pure delights

Whom love with mutual bonds unites,

Unbrolien by complaints or strife,

Even to the latest hours of life. FaAivers.

VOL. I. 46

354 THE MARRIAGE RING. SeriU. XVII I,

Moors, that he might follow his wife ; and Domini'-
cus Catalusius^ the prince of Lesbos^ kept company
with his lady when she was a leper; and these are
meator thini^s than to die.

But the cases in which this can be required are
so rare and contingent, that holy scripture instances
not the duty in this particular : but it contains in it
that the husband should nourish and cherish her,
that he should refresh her sorrows and entice her
fears into confidence, and pretty arts of rest; for
even the fig-trees that grew in paradise had sharp
pointed leaves, and harshnesses fit to moitify the
too forward lusting after the sweetness of the fruit.
But it will concern the prudence of the husband's
love to make the cares and evils as simple and easy
as he can, by doubling the joys and acts of a careful
friendship, by tolerating her infirmities,* (because
by so doing, he either cures her, or makes himself
better,) by fairlj expounding all the little traverses
of society and communication, by taking every thin
by the right handle, (as 1 In I arch's expiession is
for there is nothing but may be misinterpreted, and
yet if it be capable of a fair construction, it is the
office of love to make it.

'Ey Myuv

* Uxoris vitiuin tollas opus est, aut feras :
Qui tollit vitium, uxorem coinmodiusculam sibi praestat;
Qui Cert, sese meliorern lacit. Varro.

Remove her vices, and thou mak'st tliy wife ;

But if thou fail, and she prove unrewiaiiiied,

Do tliou endure ; then tho' tiiou cure not her,

Tliou niend'st lliyself. A.

t Eurip.

Serm. XVIII. the marriage rin«. 355

Love will account that to be well said, which it may
be was not so intended ; and then it may cause it to
be so, another time.

3. Hither also is to be referred that he secure the
interest of her virtue and felicity by a fair example ;
for a wife to a husband is a line or superficies, it Iiath
dimensions of its own, but no motion or proper
affections; but commonly puts on such images of
virtues or vices as are presented to her by her
husband's idea ; and if thou beest vicious, complain
not that she is infected that lies in thy bosom; the
interest of whose love ties her to transcribe thy
copy, and write after the characters of thy manners.
Paris was a man of pleasure, and Helena was an
adulteress, and she added covetousness upon her
own account. But Ulysses was a prudent man, and
a wary counsellor, sober and severe ; and he ef-
formed his wife into such imagery as he desired ;
and she was chaste as the snows upon the moun-
tains, diligent as the fatal sisters, always busy, and

alwaVS faithlul, ^.^acrirav (Aiv tfg^w, ;^^sga cT' ei^^v ^yurw, shc had

a lazy tongue, and a busy hand.

4. Above all the instances of love,* let him pre-
serve towards her an inviolable faith, and an un-
spotted chastity, for this is the marriage ring ; it ties
two hearts by an eternal band ; it is like the cheru-
bim's flaming sword, set for the guard of paradise ;
he that passes into that garden, now that it is im-
mured by Christ and the church, enters into the
shades of death. No man must touch the forbidden
tree, that in the midst of the garden, which is the
tree of knowledge and life. Chastity is the secu-
rity of love, and preserves all the mysteriousness
like the secrets of a temple. Under this lock is
deposited security of families, the union of affections,
the repairer of accidental breaches.

856 THE MARRIAGE RING. ScrWl. XVIH.

'E/c «!/v>iF a.na-a.aa. (jfxcjc^.xm 9<xot))T<

*

This Is a grace that Is sliut up and secured by all arts
of heaven, and the defence of laws, the locks and
bars of modesty, by honour and reputation, by fear
and shame, by interest and high regards ; and that
contract that is intended to be for ever, is yet dis-
solved, and broken by the violation of this ; nothing
but death can do so much evil to the holy rites of
marriage, as unchastity and breach of faith can. The
shepherd Gratis falling in love with a she-goat, had
his brains beaten out with a buck as he lay asleep ;
and by the laws of the Romans^ a man might kill his
daughter, or his wife, if he surprised her in the breach
of her holy vows, which are as sacred as the threads
of life, secret as the privacies of the sanctuary, and
holy as the society of angels. JVidlae sunt ininiicitiae
nisi amoris acerbae ; and God that commanded us to
forgive our enemies, left it in our choice, and hath
not commanded us to forgive an adulterous husband
or a wife, but the offended party's displeasure may
pass into an eternal separation of society and friend-
ship. Now in this grace it is fit that the wisdom and
severity of the man should hold forth a pure taper,
that his wife may, by seeing the beauties and trans-
parency of that crystal, dress her mind and her body
hy the light of so pure reflections ; it is certain he will
expect it from the modesty and retirement, from the
passive nature and colder temper, from the humility
and fear, from the honour and love of his wife, that
she be pure as the eye of heaven : and therefore it is
but reason that the wisdom and nobleness, the love
and confidence, the strength and severity of the man,
slioiiid be as holy and certain in this grace, as he i^

* With feuds by day tbough anger's flame be fed.

Peace must be granted oh the nuptial bed. A.

Serm. XVllI. the marriage ring. S57

a severe exactor of it at her hands, who can more
easily be tempted by another, and less by herself.

These are the little lines of a mail's duty ; which,
like threads of light from the body of the sun, do
clearly describe all the regions of his proper obliga-
tions. Now concerning the luoman's duty ; although
it consists in doing whatsoever her husband com-
mands, and so receives measures from the rules of his
government, yet there are also some lines of life de-
picted upon her hands, by which she may read and
know how to proportion out her duty to her husband.

1. The first is obedience ; which because it is no
where enjoined that the man should exact of her^
but often commanded to her to pay, gives demon-
stration that it is a voluntary cession that is le-
quired, such a cession as must be without coercion
and violence on his part, but uponyaer inducements^
and reasonableness in the thing, and out of love and
honour on her part. When God commands us to
love him, he means we should obey him ; this is
love, that ye keep my commandments ; and, if ye love
me, said our Lord, keep my commandments. Now
as Christ is to the church, so is man to the wife :
and therefore obedience is the best instance of her
love ; for it proclaims her submission, her humility,
her opinion of his wisdom, his pre-eminence in the
family, the right of his privilege, and the injunction
imposed by God upon her sex, that although in sor-
row she bring forth children, yet with love and choice
she should obey. The man's authority is love, and the
woman's love is obedience : and it was not rightly ob-
served of him that said, when the woman fell, God
made her timorous, that she might be ruled, apt and
easy to obey ; for this obedience is no way founded
in fear, but in love and reverence. Receptae reveren-
iiae est, si mulier viro subsit,* said the law ; unless

*C. alia D. so. Int. matrita.

358 THE MARRIAGE RINO. iSVrm. XV Jit.

also that we will add, that It is an effect of tliat
modesty, which hke rubies adorn the necks and
cheeks of women. Pudicitia est., pater., eos magni-
ficare., qui nos socias sumpserunt sibi* said the maiden
in the comedy ; it is modesty to advance and highly
to honour them, who have lionoured us by making
us to be the companions of their dearest excellen-
cies; for the woman that went before the man in the
way of death, is commanded to follow him in the
way of love ; and that makes the society to be per-
fect, and the union profitable, and the harmonj
complete.

Inferior Matrona sho sit, Sexte, marito ;
Non aliter fiuut Ibemina virque pares, f

For then the soul and body make a perfect man,
when the. soul commands wisely, or rules lovingly,
and cares profitably, and provides plentifully, and
conducts charitably that body, which is its partner
and yet the inferiour. But if the body shall give
laws, and, by the violence of the appetite, first
abuse the understanding, and then possess the su-
periour portion of the will and choice, the body and
the soul are not apt company, and the man is a fool,
and miseiable. It' the soul rules not, it cannot be
a companion ; either it must govern, or be a slave :
never was king deposed and suffered to live in the
state of peerage and equal honour, but made a pri-
soner, or put to death : and those women, that had
rather lead the blind than follow prudent guides,
rule fools and easy men than obey the powerful and
wise, never made a good society in a house : a wife
never can become equal but by obeying; but sober

* Plaiitns in Siiciio.
t What the inan wi'^lirs, let the wife fiiHil,
No nearer freedoni than her husband's will. A.

Serm. XVIII. the marriage ring. 359

pover, while it is in minority, makes up the autho-
Tiiy oi the man integral, and becomes one govern-
ment, as tiiemseives are one man. Jllale and feinale
created he tlienu and called their name ^dam* saith
tile holy scripture ; they are but one : and therefore
the several parts of tliis one man must stand in the
place where God appointed, that the lower parts
may do their ofht.es in their own station, and pro-
mote the common interest of the whoie. A ruling*
woman is intolerable,

Faciunt graviora coactae

Imperio sexusf

But that is not all, for she is miserable too : for,

It is a sad calamity for a woman to be joined to a
fool or a weak person ; It is like a guard of geese to
keep the capitol, or as if a tiock of sheep should read
grave lectures to their shepherd, and give him or-
ders where he shall conduct them to pasture. O
vere Phrygiae^ neque enim Phryges ; it is a curse
that God threatened sinning persons ; devoratum est
Tobur eorvm, facti sunt quasi mulieres. Effoeminati
dominabuntur ez^.j] To be ruled by weaker people,
iovMv yivi'T^±t 7ruf>!t.^!>ovou{ioe it^mrou, to have a fool to onc's mas-
ter, is the fate of miserable and unblessed people :
and the wife can be no ways happy, unless she be
governed by a prudent lord, whose commands are
sober counsels, whose authority is paternal, whose

* Gen. V. 2, f Juvenal.

\ Let not tlie wife in speech prevent her lord,

But he in every thing be first and chiel". A.

II Isaiah iii. 4.

360 THK MAKRIAGE KING. Semi. XV III.

orders are provisions, and whose sentences are
charity.

But now concerning tlie measures and limits of
this obedience, we can best take accounts from
scripture ; ev ^*m,* saith the Apostle, in all things ;
ut Domino^ as to the Lord ; and that is large enough;
as unto a lord, ut ancilla domino^ so St. Hierom un-
derstands it, who neither was a friend to the sex
nor to marriage : but his mistake is soon confuted
by the text ; it is not ut dominis^ be subject to your
husbands as unto lords, but w; rm KVfia, . that is, in all
religion, in reverence and in love, in duty and zeal,
in faith and knowledge ; or else k tw «/g<a may sig-
nify, Wives be subject to your husbands, but yet
so, that at tne same time ye be subject to the Lord.
For that is the measure of jv ?rcLVTt, in all things ; and
it is more plain in the parallel place, k avjiwv ev xug/»,
as it is fit in the Lord.'f Ileligion must be the mea-
sure of your obedience and subjection : intra limites
disciplinae, so Tertullian expresses it. ^ravT* «sv tw a.yS(i

TTit^cif^ivn, "-f /W»<f«y, HKoylo; iKiivov, tr^tt^xt TTcTSj WAxv oo"* i/c etgrtnv Kttl a-3^id.»

^idfis^uv vo/uit^iTo ■,'1 so Clemens Alex. In all things let
the wife be subject to the husband, so as to do
nothing against his will ; those only things excepted,
in which he is impious or refractory in things per-
taining to wisdom and piety.

But in this also there is some peculiar caution.
For although in those things which are of the ne-
cessary parts of faith and holy life, the woman is
only subject to Christ, who only is and can be Lord
of consciences, and commands alone where the con-
science is instructed and convinced ; yet as it is
part of the man's odice to be a teacher, and a pro-
phet, and a guide, and a master ; so also it will re-
late very much to the demonstration of their aft'ec-

^ Eph. V. 21. t Col. iii. 13. \ Stromal. 7.

Serm. XVIll. the marriage ring. 361

tions to obey his counsels, to Imitate his virtues, to
be directed by his wisdom, to have her persuasion
measured by the hnes of his excellent relip^ion,

«u;^; i'itIov Si a-ijuvcv fiKua-ai yafAtTiK >^iryoim;, «V>ig sry jtto; iira-t Ksid-ity>\T>tt
x.:ti ipixoiTop;c Kelt J'lS'iia-Kct^o^ rm KciXXiirTmv kxi d-ttorctTitv, it WCTC

hugely decent (saith Plutarch) that the wife should
acknowledge her husband for her teacher and
her guide ; for then when she is wdiat he pleases to
eflfbrm her, he hath no cause to complain if she be no

better r t« J'e ToictvTct, fAa^x/untTtt Tr^amv ct^ia^na-t tw ctToTrmv t«c yumijing y

his precept and wise counsels can draw her off
from vanities; and, as he said of geometry, that if she
be skilled in that, she will not easily be a gamester
or a dancer, may perfectly be said of religion. If
she suffers herself to be guided by his counsel, and
efformed by his religion ; either he is an ill master
in his religion, or he may secure in her and for his
advantage an excellent virtue. And although in
matters of religion the husband hath no empire and
command, yet if there be a place left to persuade,
and entreat, and induce by arguments, there is not
in a family a greater endearment of affections than
the unity of religion; and anciently it was not per-
mitted to a woman to have a religion by herself.
Eof^dem quos maritus nosse deos et colere solos uxor
debet; said Plutarch. And the rites which a
woman performs severally from her husband are
not pleasing to God ; and therefore Pomponia Grae-
etna., because she entertained a stranger religion,
was permitted to the judgment of her husband
Plantius : and this whole affair is no stranger to
Christianity, for the Christian woman was not suf-
fered to marry an unbelieving man; and althouo^h
this is not to be extended to different opinions
within the hmits of the common faith; yet thus
much advantage is won or lost by it ; that the com-
voL. I. 47

362 THE MARRiAGB RING. Serm. XVIII.

pllancc of the wife, and submission of her under-
standing to the better rule of her husband in mat-
ters of rehgion, will help very much to warrant her,
though she should be mis-persuaded in a matter less
necessary ; yet nothing can warrant her in her sepa-
rate rites and manners of worshippings, but an in-
vincible necessity of conscience, and a curious in-
fallible truth ; and if she be deceived alone, she
hath no excuse; if with him, she hath much pity»
and some degrees of warranty under the protection
of humility, and duty, and dear affections ; and she
will find, that it is part of her privilege and right to
partake of the mysteries and blessings of her hus-
band S rehSflOn. Twaiko. yct/uirm fAi'ta. vojuovt; li^ouc avnhBova-ct.v a.vJ'ei

MIVWOV aTTAVTaV tlVai, ^^llfAOLTOIV Tt KUl li^UV, Said rtOllllUUS. A

woman by the holy laws hath right to partake of her
husband's goods, and her husband's sacrifices, and
hoJy things. Where there is a schism in one bed,*
there is a nursery of temptations, and love is perse-
cuted and in perpetual danger to be destroyed ; there
dwell jealousies, and divided interests, and diifering
opinions, and continual disputes, and we cannot love
them so well, whom we believe to be less beloved of
God ; and it is ill uniting with a person, concerning
whom my persuasion tells me, that he is like to live
in hell to eternal ages.

2. The next line of the woman's duty is compliance^
which St. Peter calls, the hidden man of the heart, the

Juv. vi. 180.
* Q,uis deditus aiitem

Usque adeo est, iit non illam quaiu laudibiis effert
Honeat ; inque diem septeiiis odent lioris ?

Ah, who, (thougli bluKlly wedded to the life,)
Who vf ould not shrink tVoin such a perl'ect wife ;
Of every virtue feel ths^^ oppressive weight,
And curse the worth he loves, sevea hours in eight !

Serm. XVIII. the marriage ring. 363

ornament of a meek and a quiet spirit* and to it he
opposes the outward and pompous ornament of the body ;
concerning which, as there can be no particular mea-
sure set down to all persons, but the proportions
were to be measured bv the customs of wise people,
the quality of the woman, and the desires of the man;
yet it is to be limited by Christian modesty, and the
usages of the more excellent and severe matrons.
Menander in the comedy brings in a man turning his
wife from his house, because she stained her hair
yellow, which was then the beauty.

Nt/v <r' ian'' *5t' oiKm rmS'i, tw yuvu.ix.n ya.^
T«v a'oxpgov' ou J'ii TO.; tpi^o.; ^avSa,; ttoiuv.]'

A wise woman should not paint. A studious gallan-
try in clothes cannot make a wise man love his wife
the better. E(c touc r^sLyieSau? ;^^>iTifx.it Kni ouK itc Tov 0iov, Said the
comedy, such gayeties are fit for tragedies, but not
for the uses of life : decor occultus^ et tecta vemistas,
that is the Christian woman's fineness,! the hidden
man of the heart, sweetness of manners, humble com-
portment, fair interpretation of all addresses, ready
compliances, high opinion of him, and mean of herself.

* 1 Pet. iii. 4.

f The angered Husband drives her from his home,
And cries, " An honest woman were content
AVith nature's ornaments."

|Juv. vi. 166.
Malo Venusinara qnani te Cornelia mater
Gracchorum, si cum magnis virtutibus offers
Grande supercilium, et numeras in dote triumphos.

Some simple rnstick, at Venusiura bred,

Would I much sooner than Cornelia wed,

If to great virtues, greater pride she join,

And count her ancestors as current coin. Gifpord.

"364 THB MARRIAGE RIWG. Scrm. XVIII.

'Ev Kotvtt Mm! T8 jScfovw t' ex^iv fxe^o; ;* to partake secretly,
and in her heart, of all his joys and sorrows ; to
believe him comely and fair, though the sun hath
drawn a cypress over him ;t (for as marriages are
not to be contracted by the hands and eye, but with
reason and the hearts ; so are these judgments to be
made by the mind, not by the sight :) and diamonds
cannot make the woman virtuous, nor him to value
her who sees her put them oil, then, when chantj
and modesty are her brightest ornaments.

<f)a<vo/T' !tv mat arm /Mi^yit^tTn; (fpsvav, &C.J

And indeed those husbands that are pleased with
indecent gayeties of their wives, are like fishes taken
with ointments and intoxicating baits, apt and easy
for sport and mockery, but useless for food ; and
when Circe had turned Ulysses'' companions into
hogs and monkies, by pleasures and the enchant-
ments of her bravery and luxury, they were no
longer useful to her, she knew not what to do with
them ; but on wise Ulysses she was continually en*

♦Propert. I. 150. 1.

Quid juvat ornato procedere vitta capillo,
Teqiie peregrinis vendere inuaeribus,
Naturaeque decus mercato perdere cultii.
Nee sinere in propriis membra nitere bonis ?

Why bind those locks which nature taught to flow ?

Why barter virtue for the silken gown ?

Give unbought honour for some venal show,

And meanly shine with not a charm thine own ? A.

f Tl^ctrm fxiv T^s Tot/9' vttci^uv kav et/Mojpof >i ■r:<rK' ;(^g>t Jo^uv tfj^appay firm
•fit ynout xwTx/^ivit" om yii^ o^S-aXftoc to ii^ivm tvriv euxit vov(.

J Not decency, but immodest gayety,
Tfaoilf fool, esteem'st a pearl.

Serm. XVIII. the marriage ring. 365

amoured. Indeed the outward ornament is fit to
take fools, but they are not worth the taking ; but
she that hath a wise husband, must entice him to
an eternal dearness by the veil of modesty, and the
grave robes of chastity, the ornament of meekness,
and the jewels of faith and charity ; she must have
no focus but blushings, her brightness must be pu-
rity, and she must shine round about with sweet-
nesses and friendship, and she shall be pleasant
while she hves, and desired when she dies. If not,

'Oy ytt? fAiri^iis po<5'aiv TCtv tic tthpihs.

Her grave shall be full of rottenness and dishonour,
and her memory shall be worse after she is dead :
after she is dead : for that will be the end of all
merry meetings ; and I choose this to be the last ad-
vice to both.

3. Remember the days of darkness., for they are
many ; the joys of the bridal chambers are quickly
past, and the remaining portion of the state is a dull
progress without variety of joys, but not without
the change of sorrows ; but that portion that shall
enter into the grave must be eternal. It is fit that
I should infuse a bunch of myrrh into the festival
goblet, and after the Egyptian manner serve up a
dead man's bones at a feast; I will only show it,
and take it away again ; it will make the wine bit-
ter, but wholesome. But those married pairs that
live, as remembering that they must part again, and
give an account how they treat themselves and each
other, shall at that day of their death be admitted
to glorious espousals ; and then they shall live
again, be married to their Lord, and partake of his

f lories, with Abraham and Joseph^ St. Peter and
t. Paul, and all the married saints.

366 THE MARRIAGE RING. Sevm. XVIIL

Gvxret Tit ruv Stwtwi' >uti ttuvtoc Tra^i^^iritt hjuttc'

'Hv cTs jUH, OIXA,' >tf/.il( AUTO, TTtt^i^^afxida..

All those things that now please us shall pass from
us, or we from them ; but those things that concern
the other life, are permanent as the numbers of
eternity : and although at the resurrection there
shall be no relation of husband and wife, and no
marriage shall be celebrated but the marriage of the
Lamb ; yet then shall be remembered how men and
women passed through this state, which is a type
of that ; and from this sacramental union all holy

f)airs shall pass to the spiritual and eternal, where
ove shall be their portion, and joys shall crown
their heads, and they shall lie in the bosom of JesuS)
and in the heart of God, to eternal ages. Amen,

SERMON XIX.

APPLES OF SODOM;

OR,

THE FRUITS OF SIN.

PART I.

Romans vi. 21.

^Vhat Fruit had ye then in those Things whereof ye are now ashamed ?
for the end of those Things is Death.

The son of Sirach did prudently advise concern-
ing making judgments of the felicity or infelicity of
men : judge none blessed before his death ; for a man
shall be known iii his children* Some men raise
their fortunes from a cottage to the chairs of prin-
ces, from a sheep-cote to a throne, and dwell in the
circles of the sun, and in the lap of prosperity ;
their wishes and success dwell under the same roof,
and Providence brings all events into their design,
and ties both ends together with prosperous suc-
cesses ; and even the little conspersions and inter-
textures of evil accidents in their hves, are but like
a feigned note of musick, by an artificial discord
making the ear covetous, and then pleased with the
harmony into which the appetite was enticed by

* Eccles. xi. 28.

368 APPLES OF SODOM. Semi. XIX.

passion, and a pretty restraint ; and variety does but
adoin prosperity, and make it of a sweeter relish,
and of more advantages ; and some of these men
descend into their graves without a change of for-
tune,

Eripitur persona, manet res.*

Indeed they cannot longer dwell upon the estate,
but that lemains unrifled, and descends upon their
heir, and all is well till the next generation : but if
the evil of his death, and the change of his present
prosperity for the intolerable danger of an uncertain
eternity, does not sour his full chalice ; yet if his
children prove vicious, or degenerate, cursed, or un-
prosperous, we account the man miserable, and his
grave to be strewed with sorrows and dishonours.
The wise and valiant Chabrias grew miserable by
the folly of his son Ctesiphus ; and the reputation of
brave Germanicus began to be ashamed, when the
base Caligula entered upon his scene of dishonour-
able crime. Commodus, the wanton and feminine
son of wise Jintonimis., gave a check to the great
name of his father ; and when the son of Hortensius
Corbkis was prostitute, and the heir of Q. Fabius
JMaximus was disinherited by the sentence of the city
praetor.) as being unworthy to enter into the fields of
his i^-lorious father ; and young Scipio, the son of
Africanus., was a fool and a prodigal ; posterity did
weep afresh over the monuments of then' brave pro-^
genitors, and found, that infelicity can pursue a man,
and overtake him in his grave.

This is a great calamity when it falls upon inno-
cent persons ; and that Moses died upon Mount
JYebo, in the sight of Canaan, was not so great an

* What though the owner die ? The estate remains. A.

Serm. XIX. apples of sodom. 869

evil, as that his sons, Eliezer and Gersom, were
unworthy to succeed him ; but that priesthood was
devolved to his brother, and the principality to his
servant: and to Samuel, that his sons proved cor-
rupt, and were exauthorated for their unworthiness,
was an allay to his honour and his joys, and such
as proclaims to all the world, that the measures of
our felicity are not to be taken by the lines of our
own person, but of our relations too ; and he that
is cursed in his children, cannot be reckoned among
the fortunate.

This which I have discoursed concerning families
in general, is most remarkable in the retinue and fa-
mily of sin ; for it keeps a good house, and is full
of company and servants, it is served by the posses-
sions of the world, it is courted by the unhappy,
flattered by fools, taken into the bosom by the ef-
feminate, made the end of human designs, and
feasted all the way of its progress ; wars are made
for its interest, and men give or venture their lives
that their sin may be prosperous; all the outward
senses are its handmaids, and the inward senses are of
its privy chamber ; the understanding is its counsellor,
the will its friend, riches are its ministers, nature
holds up its train, and art is its emissary to promote
its interest and affairs abroad : and upon this account
all the world is enrolled in its taxing tables, and
are subjects or friends of its kingdom, or are so
kind to it as to make too often visits, and to lodge
in its borders ; because all men stare upon its plea-
sures, and are enticed to taste of its wanton delica-
cies. But then if we look what are the children of
this splendid family, and see what issue sin produ-
ces; iirn yctg tacva. Kcu raSi i it may help to untie the
charm. Sin and concupiscence marry together, and
riot and feast it high ; but their fruits, the children
and production of their filthy union, are ugly and

VOL. 1. 48

370 APPLES OF SODOM. Serm. XIX.

deformed, foolish and ill-natured ; and the Apostle
calls them by their name, shame and death. These
are the fruits of sin., the apples of Sodom, fair outsides»
but if you touch them they turn to ashes and a stink ;
and if you will nurse these children, and give them
whatsoever is dear to you, then you may be admit-
ted into the house of feasting, and chambers of riot,
where sin dwells; but if you will have the mother,
you must have the daughters ; the tree and the fruits
go together : and there is none of you all that ever
entered into this house of pleasure, but he left the
skirts of his garment in the hands of Shame, and
had his name rolled in the chambers of Death. What
fruit had ye then ? That is the question.

In answer to which question we are to consider,

1. What is the sum total of the pleasure of sin-f*

2. What fruits and relishes it leaves behind by its
natural efficiency ? 3. What are its consequents by
its demerit, and the infliction of the superadded
wrath of God, which it hath deserved ? Of the
first St. Paul gives no account ; but by way of up-
braiding asks, what they had ? that is, nothing that
they dare own, nothing that remains : and where is
it ? show it ; what is become of it .'' Of the second
he gives the sum total; all its natural effects are
shame and its appendages. The third, or the super-
induced evils by the just wrath of God, he calls
death, the worst name in itself, and the greatest of
evils that can happen.

1. Let us consider what pleasures there are in
sin ; most of them are very punishments. I will not
reckon nor consider concerning envy, which one in
Stobaeus calls ^^tx/rrov xa< SiMMT^iv 3-8CV, the basest spirit
and yet very just, because it punishes the delin-
quent in the very act of sin, domg as Aelian says of

when he wants iiis prey, he devours his own arms ;

Serm. XIX. apples of sodom. 3fl

and the leanness, and the secret pangs, and the per-
petual restlessness of an envious man, feed upon his
own heart, and drink down his spirits, unless he can
ruin or observe the fall of the fairest fortunes of his
neighbour. The fruits of this tree are mingled and
sour, and not to be endured in the very eating.
Neither will 1 reckon the horrid atFrig-htments and
amazements of murder, nor the uneasmess of impa-
tience, which doubles every evil that it feels, and
makesi i* a sin, and makes it intolerable ; nor the se-
cret grievings, and continual troubles of peevishness,
which make a man incapable of receiving good, or
deliorhtins: in beauties and fair entreaties in the mer-
cies of God and charities of men.

It were easy to make a catalogue of sins, every
one of which is a disease, a trouble in its very con-
stitution audits nature: such are loathing of spiri-
tual things^ bitterness of spnit^ rage^ greediness, con-
fusion of mind and irresolution, cruelty and despite^
slothfulness and distrust, unquietness and anger, effe-
minacy and niceness, prating and sloth, ignorance and
inconstancy, incogitancy and cursing, malignity and
fear, forgetfulness and rashness, pusillatiimity and de-
spair, rancour and superstition: if a man were to
curse his enemy, he could not wish him a greater
evil than these : and yet these are several kinds of
sin which men choose, and give all their hopes of
heaven in exchange for one of these diseases. Is it
not a fearful consideration that a man should rather
choose eternally to perish, than to say his prayers
heartily, and alfectionately ? but so it is with very
many men ; they are driven to their devotions by
custom and shame, and reputation, and civil com-
pliances ; they sigh and look sour when they are
called to it, and abide there as a man under the chi-
rurgeon's hands, smarting and fretting all the while ;
or else he passes the time with incogitancy, and

372 APPLES OF SODOM. Serm. XIX.

hates the employment, and suffers the torment of
prayers which he loves not ; and all this, although
for so doing it is certain he may perish : what fruit,
what deliciousness can he fancy in being weary of
his prayers ? there is no pretence or colour for these
things. Can any man imagine a greater evil to the
body and soul of a man, than madness, and furious
eyes, and a distracted look, paleness with passion,
and trembling hands and knees, and furiousness,
and folly in the heart and head ? and yet this is the
pleasure of anger, and for this pleasure men choose
damnation. But it is a orreat truth, that there are
out very few sins that pretend to pleasure : although
a man be weak, and soon deceived, and the devil is
crafty, and sin is false and impudent, and pretences
are too many, yet most kinds of sins are real and
prime troubles to the very body, without all manner
of deliciousness, even to the sensual, natural, and
carnal part; and a man must put on something of
a devil before he can choose such sins, and he must
love mischief because it is a sin ; for in most in-
stances there is no other reason in the world. No-
thing pretends to pleasure hut the lust of the lower
belly, ambition, and revenge ; and although the cata-
logue of sins is numerous as the production of fishes,
yet these three only can be apt to cozen us with a
fair outside, and yet upon the survey of what fruits
they bring, and what taste they have, in the mandu-
cation, besides the filthy relish they leave behind,
we shall see how miserably they are abused and
fooled, that expend any thing upon such purchases.

2. For a man cannot take pleasure in liists of the
flesh, in gluttony, or drunkenness, unless he be helped
forward with inconsideration and folly. For we see
it evidently, that grave and wise persons, men of ex-
perience and consideration, are extremely less affect-
ed with lust and loves; the hair-brained boy, the

Serm. XIX. apples of sodom. 873

young gentleman that thinks nothing in the world
greater than to be free from a tutor, he indeed
courts his follj, and enters into the possession of
lust without abatement; consideration dwells not
there ; but when a sober man meets with a tempta-
tion, and is helped by his natural temper, or invited
by his course of life ; if he can consider, he hath so
many objections and fears, so many difficulties and
impediments, such sharp reasonings, and sharper
jealousies concerning its event, that if he does at all
enter into folly, it pleases him so little, that he is
forced to do it in despite of himself; and the plea-
sure is so allayed, that he knows not whether it be
wine or vinegar ; his very apprehension and instru-
ments of relish are filled with fear and contradicting
principles, and the deliciousness does but affricare
cutem^ it went but to the skin ; but the allay went
farther; it kept a guard within, and sutibred the
pleasure to pass no further. A man must resolve to
be a fool, a rash inconsiderate person, or he will feel
but little satisfaction in the enjoyment of his sin :
indeed he that stops his nose, may drink down such
corrupted waters ; and he understood it well who
chose rather to be a fool,

Dum mala delectent mea me, vel denique fallant,
Qiiam sapere et lingi

so that his sins might delight him, or deceive him,
than to be wise and without pleasure in the enjoy-
ment. So that in effect a man must lose his dis-
cerning faculties before he discerns the little fantas-
tick joys of his concupiscence ; which demonstrates
how vain, how empty of pleasure that is, that is be-
holding to folly and illusion, to a juggling and a
plain cozenage, before it can be fancied to be plea-
sant. For it is a strange beauty that he that hath

374 APPLES OF SODOM. Semi. XIX.

the best eyes cannot perceive, and none but the
bhnd or blear-eyed people can see ; and such is
the pleasure of lust, which, by every degree of
wisdom that a man hath, is lessened and under-
valued.

3. For the pleasures of intemperance, they are
nothing but the relicks and images of pleasure,
after that nature hath been feasted ; for so long as
she needs, that is, so long as temperance waits, so
long pleasure also stands there; but as temperance
begins to go away, having done the ministeries of
nature, every morsel, and every new goblet, is still
less delicious, and cannot be endured but as men
force nature by violence to stay longer than she
would : how have some men rejoiced when they
have escaped a cup ! and when they cannot escape,
they pour it in, and receive it with as much plea-
sure as the old women have in the Lapland dances;
they dance the round, but there is a horrour and a
harshness in the musick ; and they call it pleasure,
because men bid them do so : but there is a devil in
the company, and such as is his pleasure, such is
theirs : he rejoices in the thriving sin, and the
swelling fortune of his darling drunkenness, but his
joys are the joys of him, that knows and always
remembers that he shall infallibly have the biggest
damnation ; and then let it be considered how forced
a joy that is, that is at the end of an intemperate
feast.

Noil bene mendaci ri^us componitur ore,
Nee bene soUicitis ebria verba sonant.*

Certain it is, intemperance takes but nature's leav-
ings; when the belly is full and nature calls to take
away, the pleasure that comes in afterwards is next

* The smile belies the lortiire of his breast^
And drunken hiccups prove him ill at rest. A.

Serm. XIX. apples of sodom. 375

to loathing ; it is like the relish and taste of meats
at the end of the third course, or sweetness of honey
to him that hath eaten till he can endure to take
no more ; and in this, there is no other difference
of these men from them that die upon another cause,
than was observed among the Phalangia of old,

T* /MSI' !To/« yiKoivltts a.7roQviia-Kiiv, ret Si kMiovIu; ; SOQIO 01 thcse SCr-

pents make men die laughing, and some to die
weeping : so does the intemperate, and so does his
brother that languishes of a consumption ; this man
dies weeping, and the other dies laughing : but thej
both die infallibly, and all his pleasure is nothing but
the sting of a serpent, immixto liventia mella veneno ; it
wounds the heart, and he dies with a tarantula^
dancing and singing till he bows his neck, and kisses
his bosom with the fatal noddings and declensions of
death.

4. In these pretenders to pleasure, (which you see
are but iew^ and they not very prosperous m their
pretences,) there is mingled so much trouble to bring
them to act an enjoyment, that the appetite is above
half tired before it comes ; it is necessary a man
should be hugely patient^ that is, ambitious ; ambiilare
per Britannos^ Scythicas pnti pruinas : no man buys
death and damnation at so dear a rate, as he that
fights for it, and endures cold and hunger, — Patiens
liminis et solis, the heat of the sun, and the cold of
the threshold; the dangers of war, and the snares of
a crafty enemy ; he lies upon the ground with a sever-
ity greater than the penances of a hermit, and fasts
beyond the austerity of a rare penitent ; with this
only difference, that the one does it for heaven, and
the other for an uncertain honour, and an eternity of
flames. But, however, by this time that he hath won
something, he hath spent some years, and he hath
not much time left him to rest in his new purchase,
and he hath worn out his body, and lessened his

376 APPLES OP 80D0M. Scwu XlX,

capacity of feeling it ; and although it is ten to one
he cannot escape all the dangers he must venture at,
that he may come near his trifle, yet when he is
arrived thither, he can never long enjoy, nor well
perceive or taste it ; and therefore there are more sor-
rows at the orate, than there can dwell comforts in
all the rooms of the houses of pride and great designs.
And thus it is in revenge^ which is pleasant only to a
devil, or a man of the same cursed temper. He
does a thing which ought to trouble him, and will
move him to pity what his own vile hands have act-
ed ; but if he does not pity, that is, be troubled with
himself and wish the things undone, he hath those
affections by which the devil doth rejoice in destroy-
ing souls ; which affections a man cannot have, unless
he be perfectly miserable, by being contrary to God,
to mercy, and to felicity ; and after all, the pleasure
is false^ fantastick, and violent ; it can do him no good,
it can do him hurt ; it is odds but it will ; and on him
that takes revenge, revenge shall be taken ; and by
a real evil he shall dearly pay for the goods that are
but airy and fantastical ; it is like a rolling stone,
which when a man hath forced up a hill, will return
upon him with a greater violence, and break those
bones whose sinews gave it motion. The pleasure
of revenge is like the pleasure of eating chalk and
coals ; a foolish disease made the appetite, and it is
entertained with an evil reward; it is like the feeding
of a cancer or a wolf the man is restless till it be
done, and when it is, every man sees how infinitely
he is removed from satisfaction or felicity.

5. These sins when they are entertained with
the greatest fondness from without, must have an
extreme little pleasure, because there is a strong fac-
tion, and the better party against them : something
that is within contests against the entertainment,
and they sit uneasily upon the spirit when the man

Serm. XIX. apples of sodom. 377

is vexed, that thej are not lawful. The Persian
king gave Themistocles a goodly pension, assigning
JMao-nesia with the revenue of fiftv talents for his
bread, Lampsaciim for his wine, and Myos for his
meat, but all the while he fed high and drunk deep,
he was infinitely afflicted that every thing went cross
to his undertaking, and he could not bring his ends
about to betray his country ; and at last he min-
gled poison with his wine and drank it off, having
first entreated his friends to steal for him a pri-
vate grave in his own country. Such are the plea-
sures of the most pompous and flattering sins : their
meat and drink are good and pleasant at first, and it
15 plenteous and criminal ; but its employment is base,
it is so against a man's interest, and against what is
and ought to be dearest to him, that he cannot per-
suade his better parts to consent, but must fight
against them and all their arguments. These things
are against a man''s conscience ; that is, against his rea-
son and his rest : and something within makes his
pleasure sit uneasily. But so do violent perfumes
make the head ache, and therefore wise persons re-
ject them; and the eye refuses to stare upon the
beauties of the sun, because it makes it weep itself
blind ; and if a luscious dish please my palate, and
turns to loathing in the stomach, I will lay aside that
evil, and consider the danger and the bigger pain,
not that little pleasure. So it is in sin, it pleases the
senses, but diseases the spirit, and wounds that ; and
that it is apt to smart as the skin, and is as consi-
derable in the provisions of pleasure and pain re-
spectively : and the pleasure of sin to a contradict-
ing reason, are like the joys of wine to a condemned
man,

VOL. I. 49

378 APPLES OF SODOM. Scrm. XIX.

Difficile est imitari gaudia falsa,

Difficile est tiisti fmgcre mcnte jocuia.*

It Avlll be very hard to delight freely in that which
so vexes the more tender and more sensible part ; so
that what Pliny said of the pop^jies growing in the
rivei- Caicns^ ixn '^vn k^/wtou m^-.v, it brings a stone instead
of a flower or fruit ; so are the pleasures of these
pretending sins ; the flower at the best is stinking,
but there is a stone in the bottom ; it is gravel in the
teeth, and a man must drink the blood of his own
gums when he mandacates such unwholesome, such
unpleasant fruit.

Vitiorum gaudia vulnus habent. f

They make a wound, and therefore are not very
pleasant. To >*§ ^>iv ^w x«xac /uiya.? mvor, it IS a great la-
bour and travail, to live a vicious life.

6. The pleasure in the acts of these few sins that
do pretend to it, is a little limited nothing, confined
to a single faculty, to one sense, having nothing but
the skin ior its organ or instrument, an artery, or
something not more considerable than a lutestring;
and at the best it is but the satisfaction of an appe-
tite which reason can cure, which time can appease,
which every diversion can take off ; such as is not
perfective of his natuie, nor of advantage to his per-
son ; it is a desire to no purpose, and as it comes
with no just cause, so can be satisfied with no just
measures ; it is satisfied before it comes to a vice, and
when it is come thither, all the world cannot satisfy
it ; a little thing will weary it, but nothing can con-

* Hard is the task unreal joys to feign.

And sjiortive rally, with the heart in pain. A.
t The joys of vice still feel a painful wound. A.

Serm. XIX. apples op sodom. 379

tent it. For all these sensual desires are nothing but
an impatience of being ivell and ivise^ of being in health.,
and beini^ in our wits ; which two thinijs if a man
could endure, (and it is but reasonable, a man would
think, that we should,) he would never lust to
drown his heart in seas of wine, or oppress his belly
with loads of undigested meat, or make himself
base by the mixtures of an harlot, by breaking the
sweetest limits, and holy festivities of marriage.
JUaluni impatientia est boni., said Terttdlian, it is no-
thing else ; to please the sense, is but to do a man's
self mischief; and all those lusts tend to some direct
dissolution of a man's health., or his felicity., his
reason., or his religion ; it is an enemy that a man
carries about him : and as the spirit of God said
concerning Babylon, quantum in deliciis fuit., tantum
date illi tormentum et luctum., let her have torment
and sorrow accordino: to the measure of her deliohts;
is most emmently true in the pleasing of our senses ;
the lust and desire is a torment, the remeinbrance and
the absence is a torment, and the enjoyment does not
satisfy, but disables the instrument, and tires the
faculty ; and when a man hath but a little of what
his sense covets, he is not contented, but impatient
for more ; and when he hath loads of it, he does
not feel it. For he that swallows a full goblet,
does not taste his wine ; and this is the pleasure of
the sense ; nothing contents it but that which he
cannot perceive : and it is always restless, till it be
weary; and all the way unpleased, till it can feel
no pleasure ; and that, which is the instrument of
sense, is the means of its torment; by the faculty by
Avhich it tastes, by the same it is afflicted ; for so long
as it can taste, it is tormented with desire, and
when it can desire no longer, it cannot feel pleasure.
7. Sin hath little or no pleasure in its very enjoy-
ment ; because its very manner of entry and pro-

380 APPLES OF SODOM. &>»»». XIX.

duction is by a curse and a contradiction; it comes
into the world like a viper through the sides of" its
mother, bj means unnatural, violent, and monstrous.
Jllcu love sin only because it is forbidden ; sin took
occasion by the lau\ saith St. Paul., it could not come
in upon its own pretences, but men rather suspect
secret pleasure in it, because there are guards kept
upon it ;

Sed quia caecus inest vitiis amor, omne fiitiiruiu
Despicitiir, suadentque breveni pracsciitia friictiim,
Et ruit in votituiu daiiini secura libido.*

Men run into sin with blind aflfections, and against
all reason despise the future, hoping for some little
pleasure for the present ; and all this is only because
they are forbidden : do not many men sin out of
spite ? some out of the spirit of disobedience, some
by wildness and indetermination, some by impru-
dence, and because they are taken in a fault ;

■ — Frontemque a crimlne smmint,f

some because they are reproved, many by custom,
others by importunity :

Ordo fuit crevisse mails \

It grows upon crab-stocks, and the lust itself is sour
and unwholesome; and since it is evident, that very
many sins come in wholly upon these accounts, such
persons and such sins cannot pretend pleasure ; but
as naturalists say of pulse, cum maledictis et probris

* In vice's lawless track secure they go

And risque for present pleasure future wo. A.

f Inveterate guilt assumes the front of brass. A.

t U seemed a merit to impreve in Tice. A^

Serm.XIX. apples of sodom. 381

serendum praecipiunt, ut laetius proveniat ; the coun-
try people were used to curse it and rail upon it, all
the while that it was sowing, that it might thrive
the better ; 'tis true with sins, they grow up with
curses, with spite and contradiction, peevishness
and indignation, pride and cursed principles; and
therefore pleasure ought not to be the inscription
of the box ; for that is the least part of its ingre-
dient and constitution.

8. The pleasures in the very enjoying of sin are in-
finitely trifling and inconsiderable, because they pass
aw ay so quickly ; if they be in themselves little, they
are made less by their volatile and fugitive nature :
but if they were great, then their being so transient
does not only lessen the delight, but changes it into
a torment, and loads the spirit of the sinner with im-
patience and indignation. Is it not a high upbraid-
ing to the watchful adulterer, that after he hath con-
trived the stages of his sin, and tied many circum-
stances together with arts and labour, and these join
and stand knit^ and solid only by contingency, and
are very often borne away with the impetuous torrent
of an inevitable accident, like Xerxes' bridge over the
Hellespont^ and then he is to begin again, and sets
new wheels a going; and by the arts, and the la-
bour, and the watchings, and the importunity, and
the violence, and the unwearied study, and indefati-
gable diligence of many months he enters upon posses-
sion^ and finds them not of so long abode as one of
his cares, which in so vast numbers made so great a
portion of his life afflicted ? ^rgojrjta/gov a^agT<«j amKouia-iv, the
enjoying of sin for a season* St. Paid calls it ; he
names no pleasures ; our English translation uses the
word. o{ enjoying pleasures ; but if there were any, they
were but ybr that season.^ that instant., that very tran-
sition of the act, which dies in its very birth, and of

* Heb. xi. 25.

382 APPLES OF SODOM. Sevm. XIX,

wlilch we can only say as the minstrel sung of Paai'
vius^ when he Avas carried dead irom his supper to
his bed, /?aC/a.)68, /SaCto^s. A man can scarce have time
enough to say, it is alive : but that it was : nidlo non
sc (lie extidit^ it died every day, it lived never unto
life, but lived and died unto death, being its mother
and its daughter : the man died before the sin did
live, and when it had lived, it consigned him to die
eternally.

Add to this, that it so passes away, that nothing
at all remains behind it that is pleasant : it is like
the path of an arrow in the air; the next morning
no man can tell what is become of the pleasures of
the last night's sin : they are no where but in God's
books, deposited in the conscience, and sealed up
against the day of dreadful accounts ; but as to the
man, they are as if they never had been ; and then
let it be considered, what a horrible aggravation it
will be to the miseries of damnation, that a man shall
for ever perish for that, which if he looks round about
he cannot see, nor tell where it is. He that dies^ dies
for that which is not ; and in the very little present
he finds it an unrewarding interest, to walk seven
days together over sharp stones, only to see a place
from whence he must come back in an hour. If it
goes oir presently, it is not worth the labour ; if it
stays long, it grows tedious ; so that it cannot be
pleasant, if it stays ; and if it does stay, it is not to
be valued : haec mala mentis i^audia. It abides too
little a while to be felt, or called pleasure ; and if it
should abide longer, it would be troublesome Rspain,
and loathed like the tedious speech of an orator
pleading against the life of the innocent.

9. Sin hath in its best advantages but a tri/Iing^ in-
considerable pleasure ; because not only God and reason^
conscience and honour, interest and /r/w^, do sour it in
the sense and gust of pleasure, but even the devil him-

Serm. XIX. apples op sodom. 383

self, either being over-ruled by God^ or by a strange
inslp-niticant malice, makes it troublclome and intricate,
entanifled and involved : and one sin contradicts anoth-
er, and vexes the man with so great variety of evils,
that if in the course of God's service he should meet
with half the difficulty, he would certainly give over
the whole employment. Those that St. James speaks
of who prayed that they might spend it upon their lusts,
were covetous and prodigal^ and therefore must endure
the torments of one to have the pleasure of another;
and which is greater, the pleasure of spending, or the
displeasure that it is spent, and does not still remain
after its consumption. Is easy to tell : certain it is,
that this lasts much longer. Does not the devil often
tempt men to despair, and by that torment put bars
and locks upon them, that they may never return
to God ? W hich what else is it but a plain indication
that It Is Intended the man should feel the images
and dreams of pleasure no longer but till he be with-
out remedy.'* Pleasure is but like sentries or wooden
frames, set under arches, till they be strong by their
own weight and consolidation to stand alone ; and
wh(!n by any means the devil hath a man sure, he
takes no longer care to cozen them with pleasures,
but is pleased that men should begin an early hell,
and be tormented before the time. Does not envy pun-
ish or destroy flattery ; and self-love sometimes tor-
ment the drunkard ; and intemperance abate the
powers of lust, and make the man impotent ; and
laziness become an hinderance to ambition ; and the
desires of man wax impatient upon contradicting
interests, and by crossing each other's design on all
hands, lessen the pleasure, and leave the man tor-
mented }

10. Sin is of so little rehsh and gust, so trifling a
pleasure, that it is always greater in expectation
than it is in the possession. But if men did before

384 APPLES OF souoM. Semi. XIX'

hand see Avhat the utmost is which sin ministers
to please the beastly part of man, it were impossible
it should be pursued with so much earnestness and
disadvantages. It is necessary it should promise
more than it can give ; men could not otherwise be
cozened. And if it be enquired, why men should
sin again, after they had experience of the little and
great deception ? it is to be confessed, it is a won-
der they should : but then we may remember that
men sin again, though their sin did afllict them ;
they will be drunk again, though they were sick ;
they will again commit folly, though they be sur-
prised m their shame, though they have needed an
hospital ; and therefore there is something else that
moves them, and not the pleasures ; for they do it
without and ag-ainst its interest ; but either they still
proceed, hoping to supply by numbers what they
find not in proper measures ; or God permits them
to proceed as an instrument of punishment ; or their
understandings and reasonings grow cheaper ; or
they grow in love with it, and take it upon any
terms ; or contract new appetites, and are pleased
with the baser and the lower reward of sin : but
whatsoever can be the cause of it, it is certain, by
the experience of all the world, that the fancy is
higher, the desires more sharp, and the reflection
more brisk at the door and entrance of the enter-
tainment, than in all the little and shorter periods
of its possession ; for then it is but limited by the
natural measures, and abated by distemper, and
loathed by enjoying, and disturbed by partners, and
dishonouicd by shame and evil accidents ; so that
as men coming to the river JLi/cius^ tyji //sv Kvjx.wa.Toi vSa.-
Tm KAt fu j'.uJt^Teirci, aud scciug watcrs pure as the tears
of the spiing, or the j)earls of the morning, expect
that in such a fair promising bosom the inmates
should be fair and pleasant, tikIu j-, t-^du; iui?Mxs i7X''^'*^> hut

Serm. XIX. apples of sodom. SUb

finds the fishes black, filthy, and unwholesome ; so
it is in sin, its face is fair and beauteous.

Aua-tJo; etKKvaiv Tipm'ov etSv^fAct fAibnc*

Softer than sleep, or the dreams of wine, tenderer
than the curds of milk ; et Euganea quamtumvis mol-
lior agna : but when jou come to handle it, it is
filthy, rough as the porcupine, black as the shadows
of the night ; and having promised a fish, it gives a
scorpion, and a stone instead of bread.

11. The fruits of its present possession, the plea-
sures of its taste, are less pleasant, because no sober
person, no man that can discourse, does like it long.

Brere sit quod tnrpiter audes.f

But he approves it in the height of passion, and in the
disguises of a temptation ; but at all other times he
finds it ugly and unreasonable : and the very re-
membrances must at all times abate its pleasures
and sour its delicacies. In the most parts of a man's
life he wonders at his own folly, and prodigious
madness, that it should be ever possible for him to
be deluded by such trifles ; and he sighs next morn-
ing, and knows it over night ; and is it not there-
fore certain that he leans upon a thorn, w.hich he
knows will smart, and he dreads the event of to-
morrow } but so have I known a bold trooper fight
in the confusion of a battle, and being warm with

* No softer image can the mind divjne,
The virgin's slumbers, or the dreams of wine. A.

t Juv. VIII. 165.
O friends, be folly's giddy reign concise ;
And brief the hour ye consecrate to vjce.

GlFf'ORl>.

VOL. I. ^0

\i\i6 APPLES OK SODOM. Semi. XIX».

heat and rage, received from the swords of his-
enemy, wounds open hke a grave ; but he felt tlumi
not, and when by the streams of blood he Ibuud
himself marked for pain, he refused to consider then
wliat he was to feel to-morrow: but A\hen his rat:;e
had cooled into the temper of a man, and clan-n^y
moisture had checked the fiery emission of s|-irits,
he wonders at his own boldness, and blames his fate,
and needs a mighty patience to bear his great caia-
mitv. So is the bold and merry sinner, when lie is,
warm with wine and lust, wounded and bleeding
with the strokes of hell, he twists with the fatal arm
that strikes him, and cares not ; but yet it must
abate his gayety, because he remembers that wben
his wounds are cold and considered, he must roar or
perish, repent or do worse ; that is, be miserable or
undone. The Greeks call tbis tw <TAKMi,v iv^a.iy.iu*v, the
felicity of condemned slaves feasted high in sport.
Dion Prusneus reports, that when the Persians had
got the victory, they would pick out the noblest

slave, X5t/ KSt6;^ul/3-<V MC TOV -^g, VSV TOU /SasT/ASSB?, VM Tav {;o-3-»T« iiSu<n\i T»y

atwTiiv X.SU T^u^*v, wu 9ra.>.K(tKAti ;^g/)(73^su; tlicj make him a kmg
for three days, and clothe him with royal robes,
and minister to him all the pleasures he can choose,
and all the while he knows he is to die a sacrifice to
mirth and folly. But then let it be remembered
what checks and allays of mirth the poor man starts
at, when he remembers the axe and the altar where
he must shortly bleed ; and by this we may under-
stand what that pleasure is, in the midst of which
the man sighs deeply, when he considers ^\hat
opinion he had of this sin, in the days of counsel
and sober thoughts; and what reason against it, he
s^hail feel to-morrow, when he must weep or die.
Thus it happens to sinners according to the saying
of the prophet, qui scar iji curd Jiomincm osadLbuniur
vitulum, he thai gives a 7uuri in sacrijice shall kiss the

•Serm. XIX. apples of sodom. Stil

■calf ;* that is, shall be admitted to the seventh
chapel of Moloch to kiss the idol : a goodly reward
for so great a price, for so great an iniquity.

After all this, I do not doubt but these considera-
tions will meet with some persons that think them
to be protestatio contra factum^ and line pretences
asrainst all exparience; and that for all these severe
sayings, sm is still so pleasant as to tempt the wisest
resolution. Such men are in a very evil condition :
and in their case only I come to understand the
meaning of those words of Seneca; malormn ultimum
^st mala sua amare^ ubi turpia non solmn delectant, seel
etiam placent. It is the worst of evils when men are
so in love with sin, that they are not only delighted
with them but pleased also ; not only feel the relish
"with too quick a sense, but also feel none of the
objections, nothing of the pungency, the sting, or
the lessening circumstances. However, to these
men I say this only, that if by experience they feel
sin pleasant, it is as certain also by experience, that
most sins are in their own nature sharpnesses and
diseases ; and ihat very few do pretend to pleasure:
that a man cannot feel any dehciousness in them,
but when he is helped by folly and inconsideration j
that is, a wise man cannot, though a boy or a fool
can, be pleased with them ; that they are but re-
licks and images of pleasure left upon nature's
stock, and therefore much less than the pleasures
of natural virtues : that a man must run through
much trouble before he brings them to act and
enjoyment: that he must take them in despite of
himself, ao-ainst reason and his conscience, the ten-
derest parts of man, and the most sensible of afflic-
tion : they are at the best so little, that they are
limited to one sense, not spread upon all the f^x'ul-

* H«sea xiii. 2.

iJiJS APPLE8 OP SODOM. Scrm. XIX.

ties like the pleasures of virtue, which make the
bones fat by an intellectual rectitude, and the eyes
sprightly by a wise proposition, and pain itself to
become easy by hope and a present rest within : it is
certain (I say) by a great experience, that the plea-
sures of sin enter by cursings and a contradictory
interest, and become pleasant not by their own relish,
but by the viciousness of the palate, by spite and
peevishness, by being forbidden and unlawful : and
that which is its sting is at some times the cause of
all its sweetness it can have : they are gone sooner
tiian a dream, they are crossed by one another, and
their parent is their tormentor ; and when sins are
tied in a chain, with that chain they dash one anoth-
er's brains out, or make their lodging restless : it is
never liked long; and promises much and performs
little ; it is great at distance, and little at hand, against
the nature of all substantial things ; and alter all this,
how little pleasure is left, themselves have reason
with scorn and indijrnation to resent. So that if
experience can be pretended agamst experience,
there is nothing to be said to it but the words which
Phryne desired to be writ on the gates of Thebes^

built it up, but jllexander digged it down ; the pleasure
is supported by little things, by the experience of
fools and them that observed nothing, and the rehshes
tasted by artificial appetites, by art and cost, by vio-
lence and preternatural desires, by the advantage of
deception and evil habits, by expectation and delays,
by dreams and inconsiderations; these Rre the harlot''s
hands that build the fairy castle ; but the hands of
reason, and religion, sober counsels, and the voice of
God, experience of wise men, and the sighings and
intolerable accents of perishing or returning sinners,
dig it down, and sow salt in the foundations, that
\\\ey may never spring up in the accounts ofmeq

Serm. XX. apples op sodom. S89

that delight not in the portion of fools and forgetful-
ness. jVeque enira Deus ita viventibiis quicqvam pro-
misit boni^ neque ipsa per se mens humana, talium sibi
eonscia^ quicquam boni sperare audet* To men that
live in sin God hath promised no good, and the con-
,sciei}ce itself dares not expect it.

SERMON XX.

PART II.

We have already opened this diinghil covered with
snow, which was indeed on the outside white as the
spots of leprosy, but it was no better ; and if the very
colours and instruments of deception, if the fucus and
ceruse be so spotted and sullied, what can we suppose
to be under the wrinkled skin, what in the corrupted
liver, and in the sinks of the body of sin ? That we
are next to consider. But if we open the body, and
see what a confusion of all its parts, what a rebellion
and tumult of the humours, what a disorder of the
members, what a monstrosity of deformity is all over,
we shall be infinitely convinced, that no man can
choose a sin, but upon the same ground on which he
may choose a fever, or long for madness or the gout.
Sin in its natural efficiency hath in it so many evils,
as must needs atfright a man, and scare the contidence
of every one that can consider.

When our blessed Saviour shall conduct his
church to the mountains of glory, he shall present
it to God without spot or wrinkle ;t that is, pure and
vigorous, entirely freed from the power and the in-
fection of sin. Upon occasion of which expression it

* Plat, de Rep. f Ephes. T.

390 APPLES ov SODOM. Meriu. XX^

hath been spoken, that sin leaves in the soul a stain
or sj?ot, permanent upon the spirit, discomposing the
order ol its beauty, and making it appear to God in
sordibus, in such lilthiness, that he who is of pure eyes
cannot behold. But conceining the nature or proper
effects of this spot or stain, thejhave not been agreed.
Some call it an obligation or jp. guilt of punishment ; so
Scotns. Some fancy it to be an clongc.iion from Gody
by a dissimilitude of conditions; so Fet'er Lanbaid,
Jllexander o{ Ales says it is a privation of tiie proper
beauty and splendour of the soul, wiiii which God
adorned it in the creation and superaddition of grace;
and upon this expression they most agree, but seem
not to understand wliat they mean by it ; and it sig-
nifies no more, but as you describing sickness, q^W it a
want of health, and folly a want of ivisdom ; which is
indeed to say, what a thing is not, but not to tell
what it is. But that i may not be hindered by this
consideration, we may observe, that the spots and
stains of sin are metaphorical significaiions o(i\\e diS'
order and evil consequents of sin ; which it leaves
partly upon the soul, partly upon the state and con-
dition of man, as meekness \s called «» ornamejit, and
faith a shield, and salvation a helmet,* and sin itself a
wrinkle, corruption, rottenness, a burden, a wounds
death, filfhiness : so it is a deflinir of a man ;t that is,
as the body contracts nastiness and dishonour by im-
pure contacts and adherencies ; so does the soul re-
ceive such a change, as must be taken away before
it can enter into the eternal regions, and house of
purity. But it is not a distinct tliinj^, not an inhe-
rent qnalifif^l which can be separated from other evil
effects of sin, which 1 shall now reckon by their
more proper names, and St. /*««/ comprises under the
•cornful appellative of shame.

* Psalm, xxwiij. 4, 6^. f 2 Tim. iii. 6.

Serm. XX. apples of sodom, 391^

1. The first natural fruit of sin is ignorance. Man
was first tempted by tlie pioniise ol knowledge; he
fell into darkness by believing the devil holding
forth to him a new light. It was not likely good
should come of so foul a beginning ; that the wo-
man should believe the devil, putting on no brighter
shape tlian a snake's skin, she neither being afraid
of sin no. affi ighted to hear a beast speak, and he
pretending so weakly in the temptation, that he
promised only that they should know evil ; for they
knew good before; and all that was offered to them
was the experience of evil : and it was no wonder
that the devil prouiised no more ; for sin never
could perform any thing but an experience of evil.,
no other knowledge can come upon that account ;^
but the wonder was, why the woman should sin
for no other reward, but for that \\hich she ought
to have feared infinitely? for nothing could have
continued her happiness, but not to have knoivn eviL
Now this knowledge was the introduction of igno-
rance. For when the understanding suffered itself
to be so baffled as to study evil, the ivill was as fool-
ish to fall in love with it, and they conspired to un-
do each other. For when the will began to love it,
then the urderstanding was set on woik to com-
mend, to advance, to conduct and to approve, t&
believe it, and to be factious in behalf of the new
purcliase. i do not beheve the understanding part
of man received any natural decrement or diminu-
tion. For if to the devils their naturals remain en-
tire, it is not likely that the lesser sin of man should
suffer a more violent and efiective mischief. IS ei-
ther can it be understood, how the reasonable souL
being immortal both in itself and its essential fa-
culties, can lose or be lessened in them, any more
than it can die. But it received impediment, by
new propositions: it lost and wiHlngiy forgot what

392 APPLES OF 80D0M. Scrm. XX.

God had taught, and went away from the fountain
of truth, and gave trust to the I'atlierof hes, and it
must Avithout remedy grow foolish ; and so a man
came to know evil, just as a man is said to taste of
death : for in proper speaking, as death is not to be
felt, because it takes away all sense ; so neither can
evil be known, because whatsoever is truly coirnos-
eible, is good and true; and therefore all the know-
ledge a man gets by sin is to feel evil : he knows it
not by discourse, but by sense ; not by proposition^
but hy smart ; the devil doing to man as Ksculapius

did to jYeOClydeS, o|a iujutw a-<f>i'rlim KHTi7r\a.^a-iv aufjcu to. fiu-

f^a., Ivst oSwteio fxAK>.o„ he gave him a formidable colly-
rium to torment him more : the effect of which was,

•Ti ^KiTTttV i7roH\n TOV WAOI/TOV f(^'X}'i TSV (Tf N«!!XX«<J)(V (JI.ILK>.W iTtOmiTt 1V(pKtV ?

the devil himself grew more rjuick-sighted to abuse
us, but we became more blind by that opening
of our eyes. I shall not need to discourse ol the.
plilosophy of this mischief, and by the connex-
ion of what causes ignorance doth follow sin :
but it is certain, whether a man would fain be
pleased with sin, or be quiet, or fearless when he
hath sinned, or continue in it, or persuade others to
it, he must do it by false propositions, by lyings
and such weak discourses as none can believe but
such as are born fools, or such as have made them-
selves so, or are made so by others. Who in the
world is a verier fool, a more ignorant, wretched
person, than he that is an atheist ? A man may
better believe there is no such man as himself, and
that he is not in being, than that there is no God :
for himself can cease to be, and once was not, and
shall be changed from what he is, and in very ma-
ny periods of his life knows not that he is ; and so
it is every night with him when he sleeps : but
none of these can happen to God ; and if he know*
it aot, he is a fool. Can any thing in this world

Serm. XX. apples of soDOitf. 393

be more foolish, than to think that all this rare fa-
brick of heaven and earth can come by chance,
when all the skill of art is not able to make an
oyster? To see rare effects and no cause; an ex-
cellent government and no prince ; a motion with-
out an immoveable; a circle without a centre; a
time without eternity; a second without a first; a
thins: that bejjins not from itself, and therefore not
to perceive there is something from whence it does
begin, which must be without beginning: these
things are so against philosophy and natural reason^
that he must needs be a beast in his understanding
that does not assent to them. This is the atheist :
the fool hath said in his hearty there is no God : that
is his character. The thing framed says that no-
thing framed it ; the tongue never made itself to
speak, and yet talks against him that did ; saying,
that which is made, is^ and that which made it, is
not. But this folly is as infinite as hell, as much
without light or bound at the chaos or the pri?nitivc
nothing. But in this the devil never prevailed very
far; his schools were always thin at these lectures.
Some few people have been witty against God, that
taught them to speak before they knew to spell a
syllable ; but either they are monsters in their man-
ners, or mad in their understandings, or ever find
themselves confuted by a thunder or a plague, by
danger or death.

But the devil hath infinitely prevailed in a thing
that is almost as senseless and ignorant as atheism,
and that is idolatry ; not only making God after
man'^s image^ but in the likeness of a calf, of a cat,
of a serpent ; making men such fools as to worship
a quartan ague, fire and water, onions and sheep.
This is the skill man learned, and the philosophy
that he is taught by believing the devil. What
wisdom can there be in any man that calls good

vol,. I. .51

394 APPLES OF SODOM. Serm. XX.

evil and evil good ; to say fre is cold., and the sun
black ; that fornication can make a man happy, or
diunkenness can make him wise ? And tliis is the
state of a sinner, of every one that delights in ini-
quity ; he cannot be pleased with it if he thinks it
evil; he cannot endure it, without believing this
pi'oposition, that there is in drunkenness., or lust., plea-
sure enough., good enough., to make him amends for the
intolerable pains of damnation. But then if we con-
sider upon what nonsense principles the state of an
e\ il life relies, we must in reason be impatient, and
with scorn and indignation drive away the fool ;
such as are : sense is to be preferred before reason., in-
terest before religion., a lust before heaven., moments
before eternity., money above God himself ; that, a
man''s felicity consists in that which a beast enjoys;
that, a little in present, uncertain, fallible possession,
is better than the certain state of infinite glories here-
after; what chiid, what fool can think things more
weak and more unieasonable ? And yet if men do
not go upon these grounds, upon what account do
they sin ? Sin hath no wiser reasons for itself than
these : ^agoc tx^ Trv^^vtricv fAoipM, the same argument that
a fly hath to enter into a candle, the same argument
a fool hath, that enters into sin ; it looks prettily,
but rewards the eye, as burning basins do, with in-
tolerable circles of reflected fire. Such are the
prinrlples of a sinner's |>hilosophy : and no iriser are
his hopes ; all his hope that he hath is, that he shall
have time to repent of that w hich he chooses greedi-
ly ; that he, whom he every day provokes, will save
him, whether ho will or no; that he can in an in-
stant, or in a day, make amends for all the evils of
forty years; or else that he shall l^c saved whether
he does or no; that heaven is to be had for a sigh,
or a short prayer, and yet hell shall not be conse-

Serm. XX. apples op sodom. 395

quent to the affections, and labours, and hellish
services of a whole life ; he goes on and cares not,
he hopes without a promise, and refuses to believe
all the threatenings of God ; but believes he shall
have a mercj for which he never had a revelation.
If this be knowledge or wisdom, then there is no
such thing as folly, no such disease as madness.

But then consider, that there are some sins whose
very formality is a lie. Superstition could not be
in the world, if men did believe God to be good
and wise, free and merciful, not a tyrant, not an
unreasonable exactor: no man would dare do in
private what he fears to do in publick, if he did
know that God sees him there, and will bring that
work of darkness into light. But he is so foolish as
to think, that if he sees nothing, nothing sees him;
for if men did perceive God to be present, and yet
do wickedly, it is worse with them than 1 have yet
spoken of; and they believe another lie, that to be
seen by man will bring more shame, than to be dis-
cerned by God ; or that the shame of a {ew men's
talk is more intolerable than to be confounded be-
fore Christ, and his army of angels, and saints, and
all the world. He that excuses a fault by telling a
lie, believes it better to be guilty of two faults,
than to be thought guilty of one ; and every hypo-
crite thinks it not good to be holy, but to be ac-
counted so, is a fine thing; that is, that opinion is
better than reality^ and that there is in virtue nothing
good, but the fame of it. And the man that takes
revenge, relies upon this foolish proposition ; that
his evil that he hath already suffered grows less if
another suffers the like ; that his wound cannot smart,
if by my hand he dies that gave it, «^s/ t/ (Msxoc >os|o»
>o8gw, the sad accents and doleful tunes are increased
by the number of mourners, but the sorrow is not
lessened.

396 APPLES OF SODOM. Serm. XX.

1 shall not need to thrust Into this account the
other evils of mankind that are the events of igno-
rance, but introduced bj sin ; such as are our being
moved by what we see strongly, and weakly by what
Ave understand ; that men are moved rather by a fa-
ble than by a syllogism, by parables than by demon-
strations, by examples than by precej^ts, by seeming'
things than by real, by shadows than by substances ;
that men judge of things by their first events, and
measure the events by their own short lives, or
shorter observations ; that they are credulous to be-
lieve what they wish, and incredulous of what makes
against them, measuring truth or falsehood by meas-
ures that cannot fit them, as foolishly as if they
should judge of a colour by the dimensions of a bo-
dy, or feel musick with the hand ; they make gene-
ral conclusions from particular instances, and take
account of God's actions by the measures of a man.
Men call that justice that is on their side, and all
their own causes are right, and they are so always ;
they are so when they afiirm them in their youth,
and they are so when they deny them in their old
age; and they are confident in all their changes;
and their first errour which they now see, does not
make them modest in the proposition which they
now maintain ; for they do not understand, that
what was, may be so again : So foolish and ignorant
was /, (said David.,) and as it were a beast before thee.
Ambition is folly., and temerity is ignorance, and con-
fidence never goes without it, and m/>M(/e;ice is worse,
and zeal or contention is madness, andprating is leant
of wisdom, and lust destroys it, and makes a man of
a weak spirit, and a cheap reasoning ; and there are
in the catalogue of sins very many, which are di-
rectly kinds, and parts, and appendages of igno-
rance ; such as are blindness of mind, affected igno-
rance, and wilful ; neglect of hearing the word ofGod^

SerM. XX. APPLES of sodom. SOT

resolved incredulity^ forgetfulness of holy things, ^y^^S
and believing a lie ; this is the fruit of sin, this is the
knowledge that the devil promised to our first pa-
rents ag the rewards of disobedience ; and although
they sinned as weakly and fondly, ppom^aToc t-u tt^v
«-Ts/j>,e£VTtc, upon as slight grounds and trifling a tempta-
tion, and as easy a deception, as many of us since,
yet the causes of our ignorance are increased by the
multiplication of our sins ; and if it was so bad in the
green tree, it is much worse in the dry ; and no man
is so very a fool as the sinner, and none are w ise
but the servants of God, uwvot xakUioi (ropntv ?.oiX'^y, «/' «§'

^ECpcttoi, ' AumyeviBhov a.ya.n'm a-iCn^o/ntyrjt ^^ot ayvai;, I lie WlSe (^ndl-

dees, and the wiser Hebrews, which worship God
chasely and purely, they only have a right to be
called wise ; all that do not so, are fools and ig-
norants, neither knowing what it is to be happy,
nor how to purchase it ; ignorant of the noblest
end, and of the competent means towards it ; they
neither know God nor themselves, and no igno-
rance is greater than this, or more pernicious. What
man is there in the world that thinks himself cove-
tous or proud ? and yet millions there are, who like
Harpaste think that the house is dark, but not them-
selves. Virtue makes our desires temperate and
regular, it observes our actions, condemns our
faults, mortifies our lusts, ^vatches all our dangers
and temptations : but sin makes our desires infinite,
and we would have we cannot tell what ; we stiive
that we may forget our faults ; we labour that w^e
may neither remember nor consider ; we justify our
errours, and call them innocent, and that w hich ]»
our shame we miscall honour ; and our whole life
hath in it so many w^eak discourses and trifling pro-
positions, that the whole world of sinners is like
the hospital of the insensati, madness and folly pos-
3ess the greater part of mankind. What greater

398 APPLES OF SODOM. Serm. XX.

madness is there than to spend the price of a whole
farm in contention for three sheaves of corn ? and
yet tantum pectora caecae nodis habent, this is the wis-
dom of such as are contentious, and love their
own will more than their happiness, their humour
more than their peace.

— Furor est post omnia perdere naulum.*

Men lose their reason, and their religion, and them-
selves at last, for want of understanding; and all
the wit and discourses by which sin creeps in, are
but <pgoii«raiv ^ovKtvfjutTx, yhaxrm n Ko/A-rot, frauds of the tonguc,
and consultations of care : but in the whole circle of
sins, there is not one wise proposition, by which a
man may conduct his affairs, or himself become in-
structed to felicity. This is the first natural fruit of
sin : it makes a man a fool, and this hurt sin does to
the understanding, and this is shame enough to that
in which men are most apt to glory.

Sin naturally makes a man weak ; that is, unapt
to do noble things ; by which I do not understand
a natural disability : for it is equally ready for a man
to will good as evil, and as much in the power of his
hands to be lifted up in prayer to God, as against
his brother in a quarrel ; and between a virtuous
object and his faculties, there is a more apt propor-
tion, than between his spirit and a vice ; and every
act of grace does more please the mind, than an act
of sin does delight the sense ; and every crime does
greater violence to the better part of man, than mor-
tification does to the lower, and oftentimes a duty
consists in a negative, as not to be drunk., not to swear ;
and it is not to be understood that a man hath natur-

* Juv. viii. 97.
Proverb. 'Tis madness, because thou hast lost much, to throw
the rest away.

Serm. XX. apples of sodom. 39'

ally no power not to do ; if there be a natural disabili-
ty^ it is to action, not to rest or ceasing; and therefore
in this case, we cannot reasonably nor justly accuse
our nature, but we have reason to blame our maw-
Wv.r.f, which have introduced upon us a moral disa-
bility ; that is, not that the faculty is impotent and
disabled, but that the whole man is ; for the will in
many cases desires to do good, and the understanding
is convinced and consents, and the hand can obey,
and the passions can be directed, and be instru-
mental to God's service : but because they are not
used to it, the will finds a difficulty to do them so
much violence, and the understanding consents to
their lower reasonings, and the desires of the lower
man do will stronger ; and then the whole man can-
not do the duty that is expected. There is a law in
the members, and he that gave that law is a tyrant^
and the subjects of that law are slaves, and oftentimes
their ear is bored ; and they love their fetters, and
desire to continue that bondage forever; the law is
the law of sin, the devil is the tyrant, custom is the
sanction or the firmament of the law ; and every
vicious man is a slave, and chooses the vilest master,
and the basest of services, and the most contempti-
ble rewards, hex enim peccati est violentia consuetu-
dinis, qua trahitur et tenetur animus etiam invitus, eo
merito quo in earn volens illabitur, said St. Austin ; the
law of sin is the violence of custom, ivhich keeps a man'^s
mind against his mind, because he entered willingly,
and gave up his own interest; which he ought to
have secured for his own felicity, and for his service
who gave for it an invaluable price : and indeed, in
questions of virtue and vice, there is no such thing as
nature ; or it is so inconsiderable, that it hath in
it nothing beyond an inclination, w^hich may be re-
verted ; and very often not so much ; nothing but
a perfect indifferency : we may if we will, or we may

•400 APPLES OF SODOM. Sevm. XX.

choose ; but custom brings in a new nature, and
makes a bias in every faculty. To a vicious man some
sins become necessary ; temperance makes him sick ;
severity is death to him ,- it destroys his cheerful-
ness and activity, it is as his nature, and the desire
dwells for ever with him, and his reasonings are
framed for it, and his fancy ; and in all he is helped
by example, by company, by folly, and inconsidera-
tion ; and all these are a faction and a confederacy
against the honour and service of God. And in
this, philosophy is at a standi nothing can give an
account of it but experience, and sorrowful in-
stances ; for it is infinitely unreasonable, that when
you have discoursed wisely against imchastity^ and
told, that we are separated from it by a circumval-
lation of laws of God and man, that it dishonours
the body, and makes the spirit caitive, that it is
fought against by aiguments sent from all the
corners of reason and religion, and the man knows
all this, and believes it, and prays against his sin,
and hates himself for it, and curses the actions of
it; yet oppose against all this but a fable, or a mer-
ry story, a proverb or a silly saying, the sight of his
mistress, or any thing but to lessen any one of the
arguments brought against it, and that man shall
as certainly and clearly be determined to that sin,
as if he had on his side all the reason of the world.

Ae/voc .yc^ >'6oc xji/ f^o/xo I tva-xi kai jSiu.iTua-5'a.i tt^o^ <fii<nv ■■,* CUStOm

does as much as nature can do ; it does sometimes
more, and superinduces a disposition contrary to
our natural temper. Eudcmiis had so used his sto-
mach to so unnatural drinks, that, as himself tells
the story, he took in one day two and twenty po-
tions, in which hellebore was infused, and rose at
noon, and supped at night, and felt no change :

* Plutaroh.

Serm. XX. apples of sodom. 401

so are those that are corrupted with evil customs,
nothing will purge them ; if you discourse wittily,
they hear you not, or if they do, they have twenty
ways to answer, and twice twenty to neglect it : if
you persuade them to promise to leave their sin,
they do but show their folly at the next tempta-
tion, and tell that they did not mean it : and if you
take them at an advantage, when their hearts are
softened with a judgment or a fear, with a shame
or an indignation, and then put the bars and locks
of vows upon them, it is all one ; one vow shall
hinder but o?ie action^ and the appetite shall be
doubled by the restraint, and the next opportunity
shall make an amends for the iirst omission : or else
the sin shall enter by parts ; the voav shall only put
the understanding to make a distinction, or to
change the circumstance, and under tiiat colour the
crime shall be admitted, because the man is resolved
to suppose the matter so dressed was not vowed
against. But then when that is done, the under-
staading shall open that eye that did but wink be-
fo.c, and see that it was the same thing, and se-
cretly rejoice that it was so cozened : for now the
lock is opened, and the vow was broken against his
will, and the man is at liberty again, because he did
the thing at unawares, ov ^^xm ts kxi ^i\cev, still he is
willing to believe the sin was not formal vow-
breach, but now he sees he broke it materially,
and because the band is broken, the yoke is in
pieces, therefore the next action shall go on upon
the same stock of a single iniquity, without being
affrighted in his conscience at the noise of per-
jury. I wish we were all so innocent as not to
understand the discourse ; but it uses to be other-
wise.

VOL. 1. 52

402 APPLES OF sonoM. Serm. XX.

Nam si discedas, laqiieo tenet, ambitiosi
Consuetudo mali : — et in aegio corde senescit.*

Custom ha til waxen old in his deceived heart, and
made " snares for him that he cannot disentangle
himself: so true is that sajinc^ of God by the Pro-
phet, can an Aethiopean change his skin ? then may ye
learn to do ice/l^ ichen ye are accustomed to do evil.
But I instance in two things, which to my sense
seem great aggravations oi the slavery and weak-
ness of a customary sinner.

The first is, that men sin against their interest.
They know they shall be ruined by it; it will undo
their estates, lose their friends, ruin their fortunes,
destroy theii- body, impoverish the spirit, load the
conscience, discompose his rest, confound his rea-
son, aaiaze him in all his faculties, destroy his
liopes, and mischief enough besides ; and when he
considers this, he declares against it ; but, cum bona
verba erumpant, affectus tamen ad consnetudinem rela-
bnntur, the man gives good words, but the evil cus-
tom prevails ; and it happens as in the case of the
Tyrinthians., who to free their nation from a great
plague, were bidden only to abstain from laughter,
while they offered their sacrifice : but they had been
so used to a ridiculous effeminacy, and vain course
of conversation, that they could not, though the
honour and splendour of the nation did depend upon
it. God of his mercy keep all Christian people from

* Juv. VII. 50.
Nay, should we, conscious of our fniitless pain,
Strive to escape, we strive, alas, in vain ;
Long habit, and the thirst of praise, beset
And close us in the inextricable net.

Years, which still

All other passions, fire this growing ill.

Serm. XX. apples op sodom. 403

a custom in sinning ; for if they be once fallen thither,
nothins; can recover them but a mii aculous grace.

2. The second aj^gravation of it is, that custom
prevails against experience. Though the man hath
ah^eadj smarted, though he hath been disgraced
and undone, though he lost his relation and his
friends, he is turned out of service, and disemploy-
ed, he begs with a load of his old sins upon his
shoulders, yet this will not cure an evil custom : do
we not daily see how miserable some men make
themselves with drunkenness, and folly ? Have not
we seen them that have been sick with intemperance,
deadly sick, enduring for one drunken meeting more
pain than are in all the fasting days of the whole
year ? and yet do they not the very next day go to
it ao-ain ? Indeed some few are smitten into the
beginning of repentance, and they stay a fortnight,
or a month, and it may be resist two or three invita-
tions ; but yet the custom is not gone.

Nee tu cum obstiteris semel, instantique negaris
Parere imperio, Rupi jam vincula, dicas.*

Think not the chain is off, when thou hast once or
twice resisted ; or if the chain be broke, part re-
mains on thee, like a cord upon a dog's neck.

Nam et luctata canis nodum arripit ; attamen illi
Cum fugit, a collo trahitur pars magna catenae. f

* Pers. Sat. v. 157.
Thus, in their turns, your masters you obey,
Pursue now one. and now another way.
Between two baits have liberty to choose
That you may take, and that you may refuse.

X But think not long your freedom to retain
The dog broke loose still drags the galling chain.

Drummokd-

404 APPLES OF souoM. Semi. XX.

He is not free that draws his chain after him ; and
he that hreaks olfriom his sins with the greatest pas-
sion, stands in need of prosperous circumstances,
and a strange freedom Irom temptation, and acci-
dental hardness, and superinduced confidence, and
a pieternatural severity ; opus est uliqua forlunae in-
d't/rentia adhuc inter humana luctanti^ dum nodum
ilium exsolvit et omne vinculum 7nortale* for the knot
can liardly be untied, which a course of evil man-
ners hath bound upon the soul ; and every contingen-
cy in the world can entangle him, that wears upon
his neck the links of a broken chain. JVam qui ab
€0 quod amat, quam extemplo suaviis f-:agittatis percus-
sus est., illico res for as labitur., liqiiitur ; if he sees
his temptation again, he is «7r/«Aa//6y6c Ctt' iww, his kind-
ness to it, and conversation with his lust undoes him,
and breaks his purposes, and then he dies again,
or falls upon that stone that with so much pains he
removed a little out of his way ; and he would lose
the spent wealth, or the health and the reputation
over again, ii it were in his power. Philomvsus was
a wild young fellow in Domitian's time, and he was
hard put to it to make a large pension to maintain
his lust and luxury, and he was every month put to
beggarly arts to feed his crime. But when his
father died and left him all, he disinherited himself;
he spent it all, though he knew he was to suffer that
trouble always, which vexed his lustful soul in the
frequent periods of his violent want.

Now this is such a state of slavery, that persons
that are sensible ought to complain, ^o-jmhiv ^wKium ■^ra.ttt
K^x^i^h that they serve worse lords than Egyptian
task-masters, there is a lord within that rules and
rages, intus ct in jecore aerro puscuntiir domini ; sin
dwells there, and makes a man a miserable servant:

'^ Seneca de vita beata.

Serm. XX. apples of sodom. 405

and this Is not only a metaphorical expression, under
which some spiritual and metaphysical truth is
represented, but it is a physical, material truth, and
a man endures hardship, he cannot move but at this
command, and not his outward actions only, but his
will and his understanding too are kept in fetters

and foolish bondaj^e : ^Mf^vn^-o oti viv^oa-Tr^'TTOvv i^tiv ikhvo n, ivSov
eyKiKpufA/Aivov iKitvo puTOfiiA^ tKit\io ^d'J)) (niivo av3'§a>W5C, SaJCl JVlllTCUS

Antorimus ; the two parts of a man are rent in sunder,
and that that prevails is the life, it is the man, it is
the eloquence persuading every thing to its own
interest. And now consider what is the etl'ect of
this evil. A man by sin is made a slave, he loses
that liberty that is dearer to him than life itself;
and like the dog in the fable, we suffer chains and
ropes only for a piece of bread ; when the lion
thought liberty a sufficient reward and price for
hunger and all the hardnesses of the wilderness.
Do not all the world fight for liberty, and at no
terms will lay down arms till at least they be co-
zened with the image and colour of it ? « ^-^Tm ifuwc
iKtv^i^i^r, and yet for the pleasure of a few minutes
we give ourselves into bondage; and all the world
does it, more or less.

<bt'J CUK (TTI •9"V>)T&)V Ca-Tt; £0"t' iKil/5'le^C>
'H ^^yifXi.TUV ycL^ Soukoi iO-TtV, it Tu;^f)C,
'H TTAnflaf Ctl/TOV TTOXiO;, H VOfyUDV ygu.<(i:tt

Either men are slaves to fortune, or to lust; to co-
vetousness, or tyranny ; something or other com-
pels him to usages against his will and reason ; and

* Euripid.
Or slave to Avarice, or Fortune's fool,
Or Fashion's minion, or restrained by Law ;
No man can boast of perfect liberty. A.

406 APPLES OF SODOM. SeriJi. XX.

when the laws cannot rule him, money can; divitiae
eiiim a pud sapicntcm virum in servitute svnt^ opnd stul-
tum in inipcrio ; for money is the wise man's servant^
and {lie fool's master : but the bondage of a vicious
person, is such a bondag-e as the child hath in the
womb, or rather as a sick man in his bed ; we are
bound fast by our disease, and a consequent weak-
ness, we cannot go forth tliough the doors be open,
and the fetteis knocked oif, and virtue and reason,
like St. Peter's angel., call us, and beat us upon the
sides, and offer to go before us, yet we cannot come
forth from prison ; for we have by our evil customs
given hostages to the devil, never to stir from the
enemy's quarter; and this is the greatest bondage
that is imaginable, tlie bondage of conquered, wound-
ed, unresisting people : «(fi3-.Tc7cc » ct^ir^, virtue only is
the truest liberty : and if the Son of God make us
free, then are we free indeed.

3. Sin does naturally introduce a great baseness
upon the spirit, expressed in scripture in some cases
by the devil's entering into a man, as it was in the case
of Judas., after he had taken the sop, Satan entered into
him ;* and St. Cijprian speaking of them that after
baptism lapsed into foul crimes, he affirms, that spi-
ritu inimundo quasi redeunte guatiuntur, vt manifestum
sit diabolum in haptisnio fide credentis exrludi, si fides
postmodmn dcfecerit rcgredi ;t faith, and the grace of
baptism, turn the devil out of possession : but when
faith fails, and we lose the bands of religion, then
the devil returns; that is, the man is devolved into
such sins of which there can be no reason given,
which no excuse can lessen, which are set ofl" with
no pleasure, advanced by no temptations, which
deceive by no allurements and flattering pretences :
such things which have a proper and direct contra-

* John xiii. 27. tCypr. Ep. 76.

Serm. XX. apples of sodom. 407

riety to the good spirit, and such as are not restrained
by human laws ; because they are states of evil rather
than evil actions, principles of mischief rather than
direct emanations ; such as are, unthankfuhiess, impi-
ety, giving a secret bloiv, faivning hypocrisy, detraction^
impudence, for get fulness of the dead, and forgettiiig to do
that in their absence which we promised to them in presence^

'OuKovv ToJ' a.ttr^^'iv, u (iKiTrovn fAiv cpiKai ^^ct/xia-d'' , mils' oKceKi fxn ^^cefAia^' tri i*

concerning which sorts of unworthiness it is certain
they argue a most degenerate spirit, and they are
the effect, the natural effect of malice and despair, an
unwholesome ill-natured soul, a soul corrupted in
its whole constitution. I remember that in the apo-
logues of Phaedrus, it is told concerning an ill-natured
fellow, that he refused to pay his symbol, which him-
self and all the company had agreed should be given
for every disease, that each man had ; he denying his
itch to be a disease : but the company taking off the
refuser's hat for a pledge, found that he had a scalled
head, and so demanded the money double ; which
he pertinaciously resisting, they threw him down,
and then discovered he was broken-bellied, and
justly condemned him to pay three philippicks :

Quae fuerat fabula, poena fiiit.f

One disease discovers itself by the hiding of another,
and that being opened discovers a third : he that is
almost taken in a fault, tells a lie to escape ; and to
protect that lie, he forswears himself; and that he
may not be suspected of perjury, he grows impudent;
and that sin may not shame him, he will glory in it,
like the slave in the comedy, who being torn with
whips, grinned, and forced an ugly smile that it might

* Euripid.
t The fabled tale still lives his punishment

408 APPLES OF SODOM. Serjii. XX.

not seem to smart. Thore are some sins which a
mail that is newly fallen, c annot entertain. There is
no crime made ready for a young sinner, but that
which nature prompts him to. Natural inclination is
tile first tempter, then compliance, then custom ; but
this being helped by a consequent folly, dismantles
the soul, making it to hate God, to despise religion,
to laugh at severity, to deride sober counsels, to flee
from repentance, to resolve against it, to delight in
sin without abatement of spirit or puiposes : for it is
an intolerable thing for a man to be tormented in his
conscience for every sin he acts ; that must not be ;
he must have his sin and his peace too, or else he can
have neither long : and because true peace cannot
come, [for there is no peace., saith my God., to the wick-
cc/,] therefore they must make a fantastick peace, by
a studied cozening of themselves, by false proposi-
tions, by carelessness, by stupidity, by impudence, by
sulferance, and habit, by conversation, and daily
acquaintances, by doing some things as Jlbsalom did
when he lay with his father's concubines, to make it
impossible for him to repent, or to be forgiven, some-
thing to secure him in the possession of hell ; tute hoc
intrasti quod tibi exedendum est., the man must through
it now ; and this is it that makes men fall into all
baseness of spiritual sins., [cto-^w sASa-i- m /?^o? xMm xaratgovti,
when a man is come to the bottom of his wickedness,
he despises all :] such as malice and despite., rancour
and impudence., malicious., studied isrnorance., voluntary
contempt of all religion., hating of good men and good
counsels., and taking every wise man and icise action to
be his enemy / ovS'tv hvtm^ a.v!uifxyv%v ttoiu «,- Twngw a-vm^;. And
this is that baseness of sin which Plato so much de-
tested, that he said he should blush to be guilty of,
though he knew God would pardon him, and that
men should never know it, propter solwn pcccati tur-
pitudinetn, for the very baseness that is in it. A

Serm. XXL apples of sodom. 409

man that is false to God, will also, If an evil tempta-
tion overtakes him, betray his friend ; and it is no-
torious in the covetous and ambitious,

''AlriPlTTtV V/ULCtV (TTTiZ^fX

'Oo-ov J'li/Ji.oyo^oug

They are an unthankful generation, and to please
the people, or to serve their interest, will hurt their
friends. That man hath so lost himself to all sweet-
ness and excellency of spirit, that is gone thus far
in sin, that he looks like a condemned man, or is
like the accursed spirits, preserved in chains of dark-
ness and impieties unto the judgment of the great

day, Avd-gCDTTOQ tf' dilti 0 fXiV TTOVH^Og OvJ'lV AWO 'TTKW lULKOQ, tlllS maU

can be nothing but evil ; for these inclinations
and evil forwardnesses, this dyscrasie and gan-
grened disposition does always suppose a long or a
base sin for their parent ; and the product of these
is a wretchless spirit ; that is, an aptness to any un-
worthiness, and an unwillingness to resist any temp-
tation ; a perseverance in baseness, and a consigna-
tion to all damnation, Agao-stVTl /' **!r;^§a iuvt*. r' etTTolt/utat. i^ty-m

Ma,x.iv ; if men do evil things, evil things shall be
their reward. If they obey the evil spirit, an evil
spirit shall be their portion; and the devil shall en-
ter into them as he entered into Judas, and fill them
full of iniquity.

'■^ Ungrateful raen ! who reverence not me,
Nor liallowed deem the sacred name of Friend ;
Whom love of popularity misleads, ■
To court the favours of the fickle vulgar. A,

VOL. I. •^)3

410 APPLES OF soDOiM. Semi' XXI.

SERMON XXI.

PART III.

4. Although these are shameful effects of siriy
and a man need no greater dishonour than to be a